


You were the one I treated the worst (only 'cause you loved me the most)

by indiesoul



Category: Ocean's (Movies), Ocean's 8 (2018)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Lesbian Character, Developing Relationship, Drama, Drama & Romance, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort, Lesbian Relationship, Rating May Change, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-08 23:12:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 29,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15254166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indiesoul/pseuds/indiesoul
Summary: This is mostly from Lou's POV. It's an emotional journey from her perspective regarding everything that has happened between Debbie and her. It goes from the beginning of their relationship to after Debbie got out of jail but in a anachronistic way. I also try to understand how these two character came to be the ones they are now and explain all the thought process going on during some decisive moments/events in their lives.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The biggest thank you to the sweet catebelivet who's helping me greatly to make the story as good as possible.  
> This is my first story ever so it would help me immensely if you'd leave your thoughts on it or a small review in the comments, I really hope you enjoy it.  
> 

It’s late, probably past midnight on a regular Friday. Darkness invaded the city hours ago and the artificial lights have taken place. The streets of New York City are still busy with people of all sorts: cabbies taking people to their destinations, students going out for a drink after a long week spent with their heads buried in books, waiters and doctors starting off a new shift. Most people don’t like the night — too dark, too quiet, they say — but Lou loves it, enjoys everything about it. From the defining silence of the suburbs, to the smell of cheap alcohol spilled in the club and the feeling of the nightly breeze blowing on her skin. That’s when she feels the most alive.

Tonight, it’s a regular night at the loft with the girls. They’re all watching the football World Cup on Lou’s flat screen. Being more of a reader kind of girl, she’s never really enjoyed spending time in front of a TV. That’s why she’s never owned one before. 

Before she had more than a few million to throw away. 

But the girls seemed to like it. They would always point out how she should buy a TV so that they could all have some fun together watching it. So, she bought it. They like it, she likes it. 

They’re not really paying that much attention to the World Cup anyway. They’re all busy with their own stuff. Daphne is painting Rose’s nails bright pink, which wasn’t really Rose’s personal choice — being more likely to wear dark colors on her nails — but Daphne insisted, saying she should start to loosen up a bit and try new things. 

To which Rose responded, “Stealing 150 million dollars worth of jewelry from your neck is enough loosening up to last a life time.” 

She of course lost that argument, hence the bright pink nails. 

Nine-Ball was talking to her sister on the phone. Lou wasn’t really sure what it was about, but she’s pretty positive she heard something about a guy at school, and hacking his phone. She really didn’t want to know more about that. 

Tammy and Amita are in fact watching TV, although Lou could clearly see Tammy glancing at her phone most of the time, waiting for updates from her husband and the children. Constance didn’t come, said she couldn’t make it tonight since it was dinner-time with her mother and her two siblings. 

Then, there was Debbie. 

Debbie was right next to her, sitting on one of her chaise lounge chairs on the balcony, beer in hand. Two shots of vodka already downed — the Polish caramel vodka, the one one Lou loved but knew Debbie loved even more. It was their vodka, the one they purchased in Warsaw almost seven years ago, during their trip across Europe. Before she went to prison. Before Claude. It was their vodka. 

She hadn’t touched it ever since the night she caught Debbie secretly packing her things in their bedroom. Her bedroom. She knew Debbie was hoping she could get all of her things and leave the house before she had a chance to say goodbye. Apparently, that wasn’t how it was supposed to go. She regrets every single moment of that fateful day. 

But now they’re here, they’re good, Debbie is out of jail, they’ve pulled off the biggest heist of the century. 

Now they were two millionaires having fun in each other’s company, reminiscing about the good old days of their younger selves, and Lou couldn’t ask for more. 

“Hey, do you remember that night we had to spend locked in that public restroom, because you were clumsy enough to break the locker?” Lou asks, a little unsure if it was a good idea to start digging up the past. 

Debbie’s mouth slowly curved into a smile and her eyes sparkled with mischief. “I am not clumsy, Lou Miller. You, on the other hand, have a severe case of amnesia due to the inhumanely amount of alcohol you swallowed that night — so I’ll jog your memory a bit. We were both terribly drunk, but by the time we got into that restroom, you were basically using my whole body to keep yourself upright. You literally drank yourself to sleep.” 

“Uh…” Lou’s brows furrow. She was so sure that memory was real. “I don’t recall that.” 

“Of course you don’t, smart ass.” 

That caused Lou to laugh. One beautiful laugh, the one sound which always made Debbie fill up with joy. 

“But you did eventually wake up, you know,” Debbie says, her eyes looking down, but a smile on her face nonetheless. “You were sound asleep, leaning against the wall, but when you heard me being sick you came back to life. And in less than a second, you were right behind me… pulling my hair up and just making sure I was fine. I don’t know how you do that.” 

Lou blushes irresistibly. She did indeed forget about all of this and Debbie bringing it up is just pure delight, makes her feel happy but also nostalgic. She doesn’t know what to say, but she’s confident Debbie will see it in her eyes just how much joy this has brought her. So she simply smiles and reaches out to touch her hand ever so slightly. 

She doesn’t know how much time has passed. She only knows it passed too fast. 

Now Debbie is standing up, stretching her muscles and proceeding to excuse herself. She looks down at Lou, who’s still sitting on that comfortable chaise lounge, and puts her hand on her shoulder, getting her attention. 

“I’ve got to go. See you tomorrow?”

Lou looks up, smiling but with a questioning look on her face, not having expected such a quick departure from Debbie. 

“Where in the world do you have to be so late at night?” she asks, playfully looking down at her watch. 

Debbie doesn’t know how to respond, probably doesn’t want to, so she avoids Lou’s curious gaze while fidgeting with the hem of her shirt, trying to come up with anything but silence — until her phone, which is still unintentionally laying next to Lou, buzzes to life. She’s not fast enough to pick it up before Lou is glancing at it, realization hitting her. 

Unending seconds pass by in silence before Lou gets up as well from that chaise lounge, that suddenly ceased to feel comfortable at all. Her hands are now strategically resting inside of the front pockets of her favorite pair of black leather pants, her body language telling Debbie that she’s protecting herself.

Lou clears her voice before speaking, “You know, I should check on the girls, see if they need anything.” 

Debbie nods, but then quickly reaches to grab Lou’s hand, preventing her from leaving.

“Lou, wait.” 

And she does. She always does. 

“I’ve just met him. His name is Rick. I met him at the club last week and he asked me out. He seems nice, so I said yes, but it’s nothing really serious…” 

Lou knows what she was trying to do. She was trying to salvage whatever was left of their relationship. She was trying to make it right, make it less painful. And she was grateful for that.

“You don’t need to explain, Deborah. Really.” 

Deborah. She only ever used her full name when she was being serious about something. Lou would usually say it when she’d be telling her I love you. She wants to kick herself for saying it now.

And with that last remark, Lou smiles once again. The hardest smile she’s ever had to put on, one filled with sorrow, anger and regret. She lets go of her hand slowly and goes back inside as if nothing ever happened. The night is still young. She has all the time to forget about it before the natural light comes back, greating the frantic lives of New Yorkers.

She has time. 

 

 

 

The girls have all gone back home and the loft had returned to its natural state: empty. 

Lou really didn’t mind. In fact, she’s always been the kind of person whose enjoyed the company of herself. She desperately craved the moments when she could be alone with her thoughts — her Johnny Cash and Fleetwood Mac records playing in the background, smoking a cigarette that she only ever reserved for the times she was on her own. 

But not tonight. This night was different. She hasn’t felt this way in a while — for that matter, she hasn’t felt anything at all for a very long time. Not that she couldn’t feel; it’s just that she didn’t want to. Lou learned to turn off her emotions when she was just a young adult. She soon found out that it’s a very toxic way of dealing with reality, but it’s the only way she knows.

She’s always been taught to ‘man up’, to be strong and to never show her emotions. 

“That’s when people take advantage of you… that’s when you lose control,” her father used to say. Her old man, being a Vice Admiral of the Royal Australian Navy, ironically ran the house as a tight ship. 

And he was right. He was the first one who ever taught her this, though she didn’t learn that from him. She did it because of him. The most difficult and unpredictable man, her father was. But as every rebellious kid would do, of course Lou acted against her father’s teachings and when she was a teenager, she learned to let her guard down. To let go. She wanted to live up to the young, wild life of a seventeen year old. 

Lou wanted to feel alive, have fun while making stupid decisions, make lots of friends and love someone deeply. Well, she found out the hard way that opening yourself up, while making yourself happier and freer, can also hurt you much worse. 

First, she learned that when her father died and being and underaged child of a single parent meant entering a foster care system. Her life turned upside-down. Then, Lou learned that again, when her heart was completely shattered by a woman named Silvia when she was twenty-seven. She promised herself she wouldn’t lose her mind in the name of love ever again. 

That’s when the Lou Miller they all now know was born: a stronger, colder version of her former self. Fearless and brave, extremely wise and smart. The loner. That is, at least until she met a certain brunette five years later, the one who would irrevocably change her life forever. 

So here she is, on a Friday night, not knowing what to do with all of the feelings and emotions she managed to repress for so many years, that are now resurfacing one by one. She grabs her velvet green jacket that was still lying on the couch from when she got home earlier that evening, along with her helmet and set of keys from the kitchen counter. 

Then Lou hits the road with only one destination in mind and no rush in getting back home for the night. 

The streets were still alive with the bustling of people. New York is indeed the city that never sleeps, and even though Lou was always one to reach for silence, she found that she felt an electrifying freedom when surrounded by chaos. 

When she arrived at her club, Lou when straight to the office upstairs, not really feeling like being jostled by people who couldn’t keep themselves standing upright. She usually never stopped by the club on Fridays; it’s always on Saturdays that she comes in to check all the numbers, and that’s because she hates how crowded and messy it gets on the first day of the weekend. 

She downs a few shots of dry whiskey while staring at her own copy of Goya’s The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters, a masterpiece Lou found extremely fascinating, although terribly underestimated. The intentions behind that painting was to illustrate how the lack of reason will inevitably come to create monsters, and Lou truly believed reason was something that was particularly absent in people. 

After two other drinks, she decides to take a look at the situation of her club. She paces a little up and down the corridor that overlooks the floor below. She leans on the railing with a glass of brown liquor still in her hand, observing the not-so-fascinating crowd of people, until she meets the eyes of a beautiful girl. She must have been in her late twenties, and even from a distance Lou can notice her bright blue eyes in contrast of her ebony hair. Her lips were clearly so soft and she wore mischief as a goddess. 

Next thing she knows, Lou is descending the flight of stairs with only one goal in mind. She approaches the girl, introducing herself and offers to refill her empty glass right away, to which the girl responds with a nod and a grin on her lips. It takes about half an hour before the two women are both straddling Lou’s motorcycle and heading to the girl’s place. 

Lou wakes up the next morning with a stranger wrapped around her midsection. She sighs while turning her head towards the big window that was now letting the warm beams of light invade the bedroom.

She didn’t want to wake up her one-night companion — she didn’t want to explain, although Lou was pretty sure the girl, too, had intended on simply having fun for a night and nothing more. So she slides away from under her body, careful not to disturb her sleep.

Lou puts her paints back on, then the boots follow. She finds her creamy beige blouse on top of a chair along with her jacket, but she couldn’t find her bra. Where was her bra? She keeps looking around the room, remembering that this is where she took it off last night, but as the feeling of uneasiness keeps crawling under her skin — anxious to get out of the stranger’s place — she decides to forgo the bra. 

The hell with it, she thinks. So she grabs her blouse and proceeds to put it back on while exiting the room as fast as she could with her hands full of the rest of her stuff. 

After securing her helmet and hopping on her bike, Lou briefly glances at her watch, realizing it was way past eleven in the morning. How did it get so late, so soon?

So now she was heading back home, alone, driving past some familiar places. Places where she used to go when she was an undergraduate art student who had recently moved to New York from her hometown in Sydney. Places where she used to stumble into at night, just like last night, only younger and freer and definitely drunker, back when she thought it couldn’t get better that that. 

Oh, but now is different. She’s different. 

Lou is used to these one-night stands being the only resemblance of a relationship she wanted to have since things had gone wrong with that certain brunette. 

God, she can’t even bring herself to say her name. 

Even though Lou was in fact used to hooking up with girls at clubs, girls whose names she ignores, whose faces she doesn’t remember — this time is different. She knows she shouldn’t have given into her primal instincts. She knows this was okay, as long as no feelings were involved. 

But now it was too late, for a turmoil of emotions was already involved, although the feelings that had now resurfaced were not for that nameless girl from last night.

Not that girl. 

When she finally got home, Lou quickly heads for the shower and changes into her pajamas, which consists of long white socks and and oversized t-shirt. She makes herself some hot coffee and drops onto the couch with her feet resting on the low table in front of her, then opens the book she was currently reading and starts doing what she knows best: turning off her emotions.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a small flashback in this chapter, let me know if you'd like more of those

Debbie hasn’t called nor has she dropped by the loft. It’s not that Lou was expecting her to, considered the way they ended their evening, but she did say see you tomorrow, didn’t she? 

Well, that was a _week_ ago. 

She shouldn’t even worry. Lou knows that. She knows Debbie and this is just like her, disappearing for days, giving no clue as to what she’s up to or even where she is for that matter. And Lou knows better than to call her when she clearly doesn’t want to be reached. 

She worries nonetheless. 

But Lou knows that she shouldn’t. She shouldn’t give into the fact that she so desperately wants to hear from her. She’s supposed to have moved on, which she has. She just needs to remind herself that. And god, she was mad at Debbie — she doesn’t even know what for anymore, but she knows she feels anger aimed at her for everything that they went through together, everything she herself and Debbie both did wrong. Lou was mad at her for leaving, mad at her for letting herself get close and love her, just to take it all back when things got rough. 

She was mad because she’d never even given her the chance to make things right. She’d open up, let her guard down, just to be stabbed in the heart by the only person she ever trusted it with. Lou’s mad at Debbie for betraying her. 

So, she shouldn’t worry. 

As if some great force had heard her inner thoughts, Lou’s phone buzzes to life with the unmistakable iPhone ringtone, Debbie’s name showing up on the screen.

Debbie: Hey.

It was simple. It said nothing, but Lou knew this text meant so much more. It was Debbie’s way of telling her that she was there, ready to talk. It was her way of showing regret for the other night and that she was ready to make things better. 

Hey there, Lou simply responds. 

Debbie: You up for a Starbucks?

Debbie: Can’t say no, I’m already on my way.

Debbie: I’ll be there in 10. 

Well, she didn’t give Lou much of a choice now, did she?

Lou: K, going to take a quick shower, let yourself in.

The moment she emerges from the shower, Lou finds Debbie sitting on the couch with two Starbucks cups in her hands, her chin up and her back straight, forming a perfect 90-degree angle with the floor. Debbie’s unmistakable posture, strong and exuding confidence. 

Lou drops all of her weight on the brown leather armchair next to the couch, still trying to dry her hair as best as she can with a towel, wearing nothing more than lingerie and her old plaid robe. 

With her legs a little more than slightly parted, she leans over to grab the coffee from Debbie’s hand and then slumps back onto the chair in a very casual manner. 

“So, what brings you here?” Lou asks abruptly, not really into pleasantries these days, by which Debbie was kind of taken aback momentarily. 

“Oh, nothing in particular. I mean… I just wanted to see how you were doing,” Debbie says, sliding across the couch to briefly rest her hand on Lou’s knee. It lasts a couple of seconds before she retreats, seeing how the little gesture caused Lou to flinch. 

“I’m doing well.” Lou’s answers are short and stiff, her gaze directed to no particular spot on the floor, which she tries to cover behind the big cup of coffee she keeps drinking unceasingly. 

“Okay, I see you don’t want to talk. It’s fine… We could simply enjoy each other’s company, then.” Debbie’s extreme persistence was becoming increasingly annoying to Lou. She keeps tracing Debbie’s face with her eyes — had she had a chance to really look at her since she got out of jail? She was unsurprisingly beautiful, maybe a little thinner than she had remembered but after all, so was Lou. She wonders how her life in prison had been. They had never had a chance to talk about that either. 

Oh, but she’s so beautiful. 

 

_“Hurry, Lou, we’re missing it!”_

_The early morning train at Gare du Nord was about to leave the Parisian station heading to Amsterdam. Lou had been late that morning, being someone who couldn’t help but sleep through her alarm and of course she had not finished packing the night before, as Debbie had suggested she do. It took her forty-five minutes before she was done with all of her suitcases. And of course, she couldn’t skip breakfast, so Lou forced Debbie to stop by at the café to get her daily dose of caffeine and a croissant to-go. It took another thirty minutes before they were ready to head for the station._

_“Oh, c’mon, Deborah. You know I hate running,” Lou said while trying to keep up the pace, out of breath and with the biggest look of annoyance on her face._

_“That’s because you insisted on wearing those ridiculous high heels at six in the morning to get to a fucking train station. And none of this would have happened if you weren’t such a gigantic latecomer.”_

_Lou rolled her eyes dramatically and finally sped up her pace, managing to get on the train just in time before its departure. They walked down a few wagons before they eventually found their seats, and after putting away all of their bags in the overhead locker they’re finally able to rest — one facing the other._

_She started sliding her foot up and down the length of Debbie’s with a mischievous smile on her face and said, “You’d never leave without me.”_

_To that, Debbie responded with a genuine laugh, followed by a soft spoken remark which had been resonating in Lou’s brain ever since: “No, never.”_

Lou snaps out of her reminiscing and back to reality, scraping the spot on her face where her brows had furrowed and swallows hard, trying to keep her composure, though her voice comes out trembling nonetheless.

“How do you do this?” She’s now looking directly into Debbie’s eyes, wanting to capture every little moment, every intake of breath, every flinch of her shoulders and flicker of her eyes — really wanting to read her. “How do you act as if nothing ever happened?” 

Lou keeps it vague, but of course they both knew what she truly meant by that.

_As if we never happened._


	3. It didn't matter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This little chapter is my insight on Debbie's thought process taking place at the same time as the events described in the second chapter. It might seem a little abrupt but I feel that these kind of things, even when familiar to us, can happen in a very sudden and unexpected way. This part is the least explanatory, it's more about showing what happens in these cases - as close to reality as possible - rather than explaining why it's happening.  
> Hopefully it will make sense once you've finished reading this chapter.

Debbie wasn’t expecting this calm - almost stoical - version of Lou, quite the oppsite to be honest. She was expecting Lou to confront her, to raise her voice even, she was prepared for the untiring version of her, the one that would challenge her, ask questions, raise doubts.

The one that would always make her want to be a better person.

Not this.

This Lou she had never seen before. It was all so new and the sudden realization of how much her girl had changed during all those years she spent in prison was utterly devastating.

Oh, was she the cause?

Debbie never really thought about how all the things that had happend since she left might have affected Lou. Not because she was selfish or because she didn’t care it’s just that everything had happened _so fast_ , their last fights before she left, meeting Claude and starting what looked like a relashionship but really was just a diversion to help her get through her rough times with Lou. Then he set her up and the trial happened, and she really didn’t have the time nor the energy to process other things.

Then jail. 

By the time she was locked up she thought Lou had moved on. That was her girl, always looking ahead and definitely not the type for a long-term committed relationship. They’ve _never_ really talked about their relashionship , they never really had to. It all came so natural and for a long time it felt like it couldn’t get any better than that- they couldn’t get any better, and they just didn’t want to spoil the fragile balance they were able to achive in ther life by putting a label on whatever it is they were.

And they just _were not_ long-term relashionships kind of people.

They never were.

But really, how had she missed all of this when she came back? Lou seemed just fine, she greeted her as if time had never passed and all that time spent together while planning the Toussaint job felt genuinely good. Was she too caught up in the heist and in sending Claude to jail that she missed all of this?

All of these thoughts came to mind within a short amount of time and it was just too much to handle, too many years of bottled up shit hitting her in a matter of seconds was just too much to process.

Everything started to fade.

She felt an evergrowing tingling in her stomach, her heart beating faster than she’d ever thought possible, regularly skipping a beat. She counted the poundings in her chest and every ten seconds that heart of hers would miss a pulse. She felt an increasing insatiable hunger, she was hungry for oxygen because, just like her heart was failing to function at a normal speed, her lungs were now failing to take in enough air. 

Light headed. 

She felt light headed. 

The room surrounding her started spinning wildy and the so realistic sensation of falling had now compromised the stability of her body, as if she was perpetually stepping into the void.

She knew this feeling very well. It was a panic attack. It was a “what have I done?” kind of feeling, the exact one she had when she realized she wasn’t going to get her way out of the trial seven years ago. It was the feeling of loss, as if some part of her body had been ripped right off her, the same one she had when a police officer had delivered the news of her brother’s death.

Because the truth is, it didn’t matter they’d drifted apart, didn’t matter they only ever said _I love yous_ while everything else was left unsaid, didn’t matter it’s been years since they’ve last seen each other - there was nothing more painful than the knowledge she’s caused Lou Miller pain.

So she finally found herself leaning over with one hand clutching her chest trying to ger her brething to normal and the other firmly pressed against the coffee table trying to steady herself. The only sound she could hear was the one produced by the extensive gulps of air she was trying to get in, her senses being almost completley neutralized, so much that she hadn’t even noticed the tears streaming down her face.

And it’s in situations like this you realize that the human body and mind can be two very distinct things, that’s what Debbie came to realize when her mind was screaming loud and her body was actually shutting down, two things not working as a whole anymore. Although from the outer view it looks quite the opposite. The person on the other side is only able to watch as your body fights hard to regain some decent amount of control, but they’re not able to see what is on your mind and she knew, she knew _very_ well that watching this as a viewer from the outside was the most terrifying thing.

That’s when her brain was finally able to process all the informations coming from her surroundings. First she felt one hand tightly gripping her right arm while another one was gently but nontheless firmly clutching the base of her head. Then she realized those hands were Lou’s.

Lou- she was all lover her, kneeled down on the floor, the greatest look of terror desplaying on her face, her hands were trembling but they still managed to anchor Debbie’s body to hers. She then rised quickly just to sit down on the couch next to Debbie - not waisting any second.

Her arms wrapped around her body, _so_ tightly, as if she was afraid that if she’d let go of her, Debbie would eventually crumble to pieces. Lou finally leaned back against the big cushions of the couch pulling Debbie’s entire figure down with her, resting her head on Lou’s chest. “I’m sorry” that was the only thing that escaped Debbie’s mouth once she was calm enough to emit any sound. Lou responded clutching her even tighter and brushing a soft impercetible kiss on the brunette’s head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would you like to see more flashbacks of them from the time they were together? I'm planning on adding a few more. Let me know:)  
> As always, I would love to hear your thoughts on this, they keep me inspired


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's another chapter. This one took me a little longer to write cause I had some trouble with the dialogues but I hope you enjoy.  
> As always, your comments really keep me inspired, I would love to hear what you guys think about this chapter.

Lou didn’t know how much time had passed. She still had Debbie wrapped around her, breathing softly and Lou made the smallest movement to brush her hair off of her face.

She looked so small.

It reminded her of the time she had Debbie tightly clutched to her chest the night of Danny’s funeral. They were in bed, chest to chest, Lou’s chin resting on top of Debbie’s head, their arms wrapped around each other’s bodies — they fit perfectly together.

Debbie hadn’t cried that day. She hadn’t crumbled — ever the strongest — but she’d asked Lou to hold her. And she did, all night. She had placed soft kisses upon her head, her cheeks, against the spot between her eyes that she loved ridiculously. She had gently traced her smooth lips with the tips of her fingers,committing to memory the already familiar scent.

She wondered what in the world she had done right to ever get this lucky, but there was one thing Lou was absolutely sure about: she wanted to spend the rest of her life listening to Debbie’s heart beating in her chest.

And Lou remembered. She remembered how she had sworn, all those years ago, to never let anyone _really_ near her — close enough to know her, but never close enough to hurt her. Lou had taken an oath that she would always protect herself.

That was before this beautiful, maddening, challenging woman irrevocably entered her life. She knew that no matter what, she would always be there for Debbie.

Lou took a new oath that day. 

 

When she found that Debbie’s breathing had finally evened out, Lou tried shifting a little, putting some distance between them, wanting to look her in the eye.

Debbie tilted her head upwards and a little smile appeared on her face to which Lou responded with a soft spoken, “Hey. What do you say, you up for a hot chocolate?”

Debbie’s look of disbelief was almost comical, her brows furrowed, a sideways glance. Lou looked up, confused. “What? You don’t like hot chocolate?”

Debbie shook her head and smiled. “I do. It’s just not something you’d usually… drink.”

Lou grinned, firing back immediately, “Oh, honey. Wait till you see it. Let’s just say it’s the more… adult version, of your regular hot chocolate.”

Debbie’s puzzling look slowly turned into understanding. “Well, I might take you up on that offer, then.”

It’d been hours since Debbie’d stepped in Lou’s apartment, bearing two overly sweetened cappuccinos, and so much had happened during that period of time. But now here they were, sitting at the table in the kitchen, warming their hands and stomachs with that hot beverage mixed with Lou’s secret ingredient. She hadn’t told her what it was, but Debbie was _pretty sure_ it came from her old stash of rum.

Lou’s feet were comfortably propped up on a chair across from Debbie which caused the bottom of her plaid robe to open a little bit more, revealing the entire length of her beautiful, long legs. Debbie hadn’t seen Lou’s legs in _so_ many years — the last time being the week before she had suddenly packed her things and left the loft for good. Last time, those legs were firmly wrapped around her waist, keeping her as close as possible. Debbie could still remember the strength of her thighs tightly clutching her body while Lou’s fingers trailed over her back, mapping out her curves, as if it were their first time together.

As if it was their last.

Debbie observed her while Lou intently rolled a cigarette made from Marlboro light tobacco, for which she had to put her glasses on to concentrate. Her damp hair was falling over her face and Debbie still couldn’t understand how Lou was able to perform any task at all with her hair constantly blocking her vision.

“You know, I can _literally_ feel you staring at me. It’s _so_ annoying,” Lou said playfully, careful not to take her eyes off her hands still rolling that cigarette.

Debbie eyes grew wider realizing she had been caught. “Um..sorry,” she said sheepishly, her face flushing a little — but Lou simply smiled.

“Here.” She handed Debbie the perfectly rolled cigarette. “Have the first puff.”

Debbie reluctantly took it from her hand,not looking entirely convinced. “I haven’t smoked in like, _ages_.”

Lou laughed a little. “Oh darling, it’s like riding a bike… you don’t forget how to do that."

Debbie responded by rolling her eyes dramatically. “Yeah, I know,”she scoffed. “I meant, I’m not used to it anymore.”

Lou leant forward and a with a mischievous expression — one that was just so her — reached across the table, gesturing with her hand. “You can give it back if you don’t want it.”

And Debbie, who would never turn down a challenge from Lou, took the lighter from the table and finally sparked it up before taking a long drag from the cigarette.

Lou fell back again on the chair and smirked. “That’s my girl.”

They chatted a while longer, about Lou’s club, about the girls — specifically about the upcoming runway Rose was working on. They spoke about possibly going out for dinner with the rest of the group and how it would be insane with Daphne being vegan, Tammy on a diet, Rose being allergic to half of a regular menu, and Nine-Ball complaining about the location they had chosen, always saying, “I can’t believe this place has no wifi.”

They really had to think it through, although Debbie and Lou knew that they would eventually end up at the loft, ordering pizza anyway.

Saturday night it was, then. They’ll let the girls know all of the details in their group chat.

After their hot chocolates had been finished and two more cigarettes had been rolled and smoked, Debbie rose from her chair. After a quick stop to the bathroom, she found herself facing Lou’s slightly opened door to her bedroom.

Oh, she didn’t want to pry, she really had no particular intention, but Debbie was drawn to it, captured by the oh-so familiar scent coming from the room. They say that your sense of smell is the one that most easily evokes memories, and there was simply _nothing_ Debbie could do to prevent that — to prevent the increasing sensation of nostalgia from creeping in.

So Debbie opened the door wider and started taking in her surroundings. The first thing her brain registered was their bed. No, Lou’s bed, she thought.

It was still the same, everything was still the same: from the antique oak dresser she bought at the flea market in Chelsea to the big red, furry rug she had placed in the middle of the room. She found the same jewelry box in the _exact_ same spot on the dresser and her highly decorated rings sprawled over the surface.

Everything was the same.Except, it wasn’t.

The more time she spent observing the details of the room she knew by heart, the more Debbie noticed. Most of her clothing was now hanging on a single clothes rack in the bedroom instead of her giant walk-in closet that she was so ridiculously proud of. The closet was now only half full of the things Debbie remembered were in there, the other half was now occupied by piles of boxes, and even from a distance Debbie could easily read her name written on most of them.

They were probably filled with her old stuff.

When she’d left the loft all those years ago,Debbie had only packed one single suitcase and a duffle bag, leaving everything else that wouldn’t fit in those two bags behind. She had never gathered up the courage to go back, so she left everything here — but _never_ in a million years would she have thought that Lou had kept it all.

She didn’t know what to do with this new little piece of information and right when Debbie was starting to process it, she got distracted by an unfamiliar cork board that was propped up on a chair in the corner of the room. The board was adorned with a vintage gold, gilded frame which style Debbie thought complimented the big mirror on the dresser. Pinned to the board were postcards from al lover the world: from Sevilla, Amsterdam, Poland, Budapest — all the places they’d visited together on their two-month-long European trip. There were other cards too, from other countries like Cambodia, Seul and Phuket. There was one from Chefchaouen, and another from Iceland.

She’d never been more fascinated before, just watching somebody’s life unfold before her eyes, indirectly experiencing the great distance they had traveled to, the people they had the privilege to meet. It was utterly beautiful, and she felt the happiest knowing Lou got to experience all of it.

The more she took in all the details, the more she realized that even the post cards from places she had never been to were somewhat familiar. The pictures were slightly different but, the places were all the same nonetheless.

They were the cards she hung on the wall of her cell when she was in jail.

One year and eight days after she entered prison, these post cards started to come in the mail. They were never signed — as a matter of fact, they were deliberately blank — and she had always assumed that it was Rusty who would send them in to cheer her up. The times he came to visit her, he would always tell her to never lose hope, to move forward for there was a _whole world_ waiting for her on the outside.

Debbie had never considered them being from Lou.

“Did you like them?” The sudden and unexpected question made Debbie jump. She turned around and saw Lou leaning on the door, arms crossed and a small tentative smile on her face. _How long had she been gone?_

“It was you.” It wasn’t a question, Debbie was now certain about it.

“Um, yeah… I thought you might like them.”Lou had taken a few steps forward and was now sitting down on the edge of her bed.

“I did.” Debbie answer was short and simple, but she made sure to make eye contact with Lou, trying to show her how much gratitude she was feeling.

Debbie followed Lou and sat on the bed next to her, never taking her eyes off the blonde. “I wanna know all about those trips.”

Lou’s face lit up in a second, smiling wide. “You will.”

It was a simple statement, yet it felt like so much more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More to come:)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is pretty angsty but I really loved writing it. Also, there's a brief mention of violence.   
> Let me know what you guys think

“One grande quad, extra whip please.”  
“Name?” the young barista asked from behind the counter.  
“Lou.”

 

It was a sunny morning in New York City, pretty warm considered it was still winter. That day Lou had some errands to run that – unfortunately – couldn’t wait till after noon, thus she had to wake up annoyingly early.

She sat at the table to enjoy her coffee –she really didn’t like it to-go – and started observing the city in motion through the window. Sometimes she felt like the world around her kept going forward while she was just unable to move. The sunlight streaming through the window made her eyes squint but she kept observing the beutiful play of light as the sun striking the surface of her glass of water created a mesmerazing spectrum of colors. She utterly relished these moments of solitude; surrounded by strangers, the smell of fresh coffee permeating her nostrils, savouring her moment of tranquility as best as she could. It had been a while now since she started making these particular moments – quite and alone – a priority in her life. It’s like a huge part of her was living dormant, held in some weird slumber state.

A new stage in her life. 

Oh, but Lou was a complex soul – nothing was ever enough to fill her up – so she would always scratch for more; more tranquility, more adrenaline, more lust, more exitement – more pain. 

When she was a young adult her own peculiar way of dealing with things was bringing her body to the extreme. She would always drink a lot – too much too often – ironically, until her entire self felt completely numb, yet in the process she was able to let herself feel things to their fullest extention. The sex would be anything less than violent and passionate and oh- so loud; consuming as a mean of relief.   
She wasn’t looking for quite. She wasn’t looking for gentle. 

She found that physical pain, the one you can control, was the only way she could experience pure adrenaline, not because she had any particular desire to be in pain but because – in a very twisted way – she felt that by coming back all damaged she could rebuild herself again. 

One day she was hanging out with some of her friends at a bar when she stepped into a fight to defend this girl who had been called with several particular choice of words by two guys who, apperantly, couldn’t simply exept _no_ for an answer. Thankfully she hadn’t been severely injured, although her bloody lips and swollen knuckles begged to differ. When she got home that night and stripped out of her dirty clothes that were drenched in alcohol and blood, she found herself looking in the mirror, tracing the shades of blue and purlpe that were beginning to mark her bitten body; she felt an electrical rush of excitement and a sudden feeling of resolution. As if the tangible, physical sensations were enough to placate the turmoil inside her head.

But the problem is that once you had a taste of such pure euphoria, you _just can’t_ go back to normal.

That’s when she met _her_. 

***

Debbie had found Lou on Springs st. in Soho in 2002. She had been observing her from a bakery across the street where Debbie was buying her favourite blueberry muffins. The blonde woman was tall and exquisitely elegant but with a touch of sassiness that made her incredibly intriguing. She was standing alone on the street, arms crossed and an inquisitive expression on her face that Debbie could easily spot even behind those big cheetah sunglasses of hers. 

“I know what you’re trying to pull off and..it’s not going to work.” Debbie was standing right next to her, crossing her arms too and facing towards the same direction. 

Lou had given her a gelid sideglance and without taking her eyes off of her target she sharply retorted “And you are..?”

Debbie confidently extended her arm to shake hands “Debbie Ocean, pleasure to meet you blondie.” To that Lou simply risponded by furrowing her brows and giving a very disapproving look.

 _She was already annoying her_. 

"So, how do you want to proceed? I’m telling you it’s not going to work.” Lou turned her head towards the source of her annoyance and finally snapped, in that very unique australian accent “Oh, fuck off.” 

Debbie sighed audiably and turned her whole body to face the blonde stranger “There are two police officers around that corner over there.” She raised her arm to point at the spot on the street in question, then continued to talk, “There’s a patrol car at the end of this very street, you can’t quite see it from where you’re standing but if you would have just taken an extra 5 minutes to examine your surroundings, you would have spot it. Of course there’s no need for me to point out the fact that they would all be able to put you in handcuffs in less than sixty seconds.” Debbie was blurting all these information matter-of-factly as if it were something she was used to do on a daily basis. ”Oh, and I don’t think the 6 ft 5 owner would be very thrilled too.”

Lou scoffed, visibly annoyed. “So what are you saying?” Debbie placed a hand on the girl’s shoulder closing the distance between them to whisper in her ear, “I’m saying you’re not gonna be able to steal that car.”

Lou sighed, smiling dissapointedly and reached out her arm. “I’m Lou by the way.”  
“Well Lou, let me buy you something to drink, tonight.”

They went out for that drink the same night and they talked. 

Talked until the sun rose again. 

Debbie had immediatly seen in Lou something special, a drive for the unkwown, for danger, for the thrill that came with the possibility of getting caught. She was extremely smart too, surely she didn’t lack eagerness nor wit, but she was also impossibly sensitive. Needless to say she was also tremedously beutiful; her mysterious, seductive grey eyes were the most powerful magnets Debbie had ever been drawn to.

She offered to mentor Lou, to become partners. She had accepted in a heartbeat. 

Years went by robbing small banks and stealing cars – for real this time; traveling.   
They had spent months avoiding jail across the country, from one motel to another, and when they ran out of money, they would make a stop at a local bingo or casino – then they were ready to hit the road again. If there was a bad decision to make, you can be sure they’d make it.

So many days spent in the same car together. So many nights making love to each other. 

It had been Debbie who made the first move, six months after they met. Since then, they hadn’t been able to stay away from one another for more than a couple of hours. 

To Lou, this was the best life she could live.

But then everything changed when Debbie left. That day – 23rd of october 2011 –was the day Lou’s life drastically changed once again. At first, Debbie’s quick departure had not sunk in, she was angry of course – but mostly _confused_. 

It’s not that the didn’t fight – as a matter of fact – they had been fighting a a lot more during their last months together, but Lou had never imagined, not even in her worst nightmares, that Debbie could actually leave her. 

Oh, they’d never talked about _them/ _, about their future, about their plans; she had never thought about Debbie and her growing old together because she didn’t need to – to Lou it had always been an implicit certainty. It only had been after three months since she last saw Debbie that she realized she wasn’t coming back. The sudden knowledge hitting her like a bullet through her skull, leaving a hole in her head; leaving her lifeless.__

__Since that very moment she’s been living her life like a ghost, a mere observer of her own existence.  
That day, Debbie had taken everything away from her. _ _

__***_ _

__“Exuse me, is this chair taken?”_ _

__Lou’s train of thought was abruptly interrupted by an elderly woman looking for a place to sit. She smiled at her and kindly let her take her own seat; she was finished with her coffee anyway._ _

__When she exited the building she breathed in the fresh air and savoured the crisp winter day,she slightly tilted her head back, letting her face soak up the sunlight._ _

__She _really_ wanted to see her._ _


	6. Falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He guys, here's my other chapter. It's probably been the hardest one to write so I hope you'll like it and I hope I did all the characters justice. Bare with me, I promise it will get better.  
> Also I highly reccomend listening to Una mattina by Ludovico Einaudi before you continue reading, to set the mood for this chapter, as I'm mentioning it further in this very chapter.   
> I'm really grateful for the comments and feedback you're all leaving, thank you for reading. I would love to keep hearing all of your opinions.  
> Enjoy

It was Saturday night, a month after Debbie and Lou had planned to invite their friends over for dinner. They had finally managed to pick up a date where everybody would be available — it was really hard, considering they were all conducting very different lives, especially for Tammy who was now a part-time editor for Vogue and a full-time mom.

As usual, they ordered a pizza, bought a 30-pack of beer, and Lou stopped at her club to pick up a couple of bottles of fine wine — just in case they wanted to mix it up.

The loft had a welcoming atmosphere; it gave everybody the warm feeling of home. Different soft lights illuminated the place, which was still invaded by the intense hues of pink and orange of the sun going down. The room was pervaded by the sweet, woody scent of Lou’s cinnamon candles mixed with the fresh, earthy smell produced by the earlier rain. In the back ground, the old vinyl was playing Angie by The Rolling Stones.

They were all busy chatting, really enjoying the company of each other: Nine-Ball was smoking outside on the terrace, leaning on the window that opened right to the living area so that she could still interact now and then, with Amita and Rose who were having a weird, grandiloquent conversation about a book they had both read during high school — not that Nine-Ball had ever read that novel, being more of a comic book kind of person herself, but she was having fun feigning interest in whatever they were saying.

Although she was utterly terrible at it, Daphne was having a blast playing Lou’s video games, so much so she didn’t even noticed she kept losing.

“Oh, come on, Daphne. Could you please stop? You’re disgracing my name with that score,” said Lou in an overdramatic tone.

Daphne frantically gestured Lou to lower her voice. “You’re distracting me. I’m trying to win here.”

Lou simply rolled her eyes and walked away, comically shaking her head with the biggest expression of annoyance on her face.

Constance was standing in front of a dark brown wooden shelving unit that contained a big collection of several different cameras. Lou had many models, almost from every decade: from the 1925’s Leica I 35 mm to the 2017’s Nikon D85. It was so fascinated her.

“Hey, Lou.How come your cameras seem to multiply every time I’m here?” Constance asked, looking genuinely impressed by her collection.

Lou walked up to the younger girl and responded, “Um, I don’t know… I keep finding the best deals on eBay. And some of them were being sold for ridiculous prices at the flea market.”

“Cool,” said Constance, holding the 1967’s Fujica Compact 35. “I really like this one.” Lou softly smiled at her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “You can have it.”

“For real?” exclaimed Constance, eyebrows shooting up and her eyes opened wide.

Lou chuckled a bit at the astonishment on her face.

“Sure thing, darling. I actually have two of those, so… ” said trailed off nonchalantly. “But you have to promise me you’ll make good use of it.”

Constance nodded vigorously with the biggest smile on her face. “Absolutely.”

“Hey guys, look what I just got!” sang out Constance as she swayed her entire body from side to side, showing her new little toy to the rest of the group.

***

When the pizzas finally arrived, the group didn’t waste any second devouring them. They were all spread across the living room: some sitting on the couch, others on the floor and Lou, as usual, was sitting on the bottom step of the staircase. Once they were done eating, they stayed there for a while longer, chatting and laughing, telling stories about their past — primarily their lives in high school and college, imagining what it would have been if they’d known each other during those years.

But then the subject changed, and Lou started sensing a pair of concerned eyes — the eyes of whom had a deeper and precedent knowledge.

Tammy’s eyes.

The fact that Lou was normally chatting and having fun with the girls, and that her demeanor drastically changed when the subject of former relationships had been initiated — it was enough to spark Tammy’s protective mode.

The girls had all spoken in turn about their first times. Their first loves. Their first heartbreaks. They talked about it with such pure lightness that it made Lou’s chest ache even more. Oh, she wanted to talk about Debbie, she wanted to talk about all their first times together: their first ever heist, in New York all those years ago — which went terribly wrong but it had been fun and it had been theirs. She wanted to talk about their first kiss and the first time they had said _I love you._

She wanted to talk about Debbie because she was the only one even worth mentioning. All of the others simply faded away when compared to Debbie Ocean.

Lou felt like she was suspended in time as she stared at nothing in particular — hearing what everyone was talking about but not really _listening_.

The empty sounds and background noises, the shimmering light of the candle in front of her — it was all becoming less distinct, less detailed. She felt reality starting to slip away.

Perhaps she was crying.

_Does it really hurt this much? Was it worse then, or is it worse now?_

Lou felt a firm grip on her shoulderand looked up to see Tammy standing next to her. Then Tammy reached out the other hand and waited for Lou to take it.

“Come on,” said Tammy, making a small gesture with her head, wanting Lou to follow her.

Lou stood up and they both walked across the living area to reach the back door of the apartment. The old, rusty door opened to an external fire escape that overlooked the street below.

Tammy immediately shut the door behind her while Lou sat on one of the stairwell’s steps.

“You wanna tell me what’s going on?” Tammy said, facing the blonde.

“There is really nothing to say, Tammy,” Lou harshly retorted, her self-defense mechanism visibly on.

“That’s bullshit,” Tammy scoffed, but then instantly softened at the sight of Lou flinching. She kneeled down and gently took Lou’s hand in hers. “I _know_ that look on your face, Lou,” Tammy continued.

She did know it. In fact, she had so many months to memorize that particular expression on Lou’s face, after Debbie went to jail and Lou had finally crumbled. It was a look of loss and utter desperation. Lou and Tammy had never been particularly close before that, but Tammy cared about Lou and when she saw how all the events following the break-up were taking their toll, Tammy rushed into action — staying by her side all the way, until Lou was able to be on her own again.

So, yes. Tammy knew that look very well.

“Debbie’s out of jail,” Lou finally said in a gravelly voice.

Tammy looked genuinely confused. “Yes… so I’ve noticed. Care to elaborate?”

Lou took a deep breath, a single tear falling down her cheek. “She’s here Tammy, in my goddamn living room, and I just don’t know how to deal with this.” She was looking down, fidgeting with her rings — a nervous habit she had picked up when she was a teenager.

“Oh, honey. You told me you had moved on,” Tammy said, and even from a distance you could see how deeply concerned she was for her friend.

When she spoke, Lou’s voice was hoarse and thick with emotion, “I know…I had, but now it’s different.She’s back and.. she’s here. I don’t know. Maybe I thought I would never see her again.”

Lou took another deep breath before continuing, desperately trying to fill up her lungs. “God, Tammy.She’s _seeing_ someone, did you know that? And the worst of it is, the last time I was with a… beautiful, lovely girl…” She trailed off for a few seconds, choking back a sob. “I got home and _cried_. I cried because, for the first time in years, I’ve felt like I’d betrayed her. I cried because that girl wasn’t _her_ , Tammy. It’s never her and it always feels so awful and wrong.” She was rambling, her thoughts coming out almost incoherently.

Tammy was at a loss for words. Only two times she had seen her friend crying in front of her: first when Lou had realized Debbie wasn’t coming back, then the day of Debbie’s sentence at her trial.

Lou wiped away the now silent tears streaming down her face and spoke again in a trembling voice. “I really thought I had put it all behind me. But the more time passes, the more I think that I’ll never be able to fall out of love. And I _know_ …I know it will consume me in the end, but the truth is that I’d rather spend the rest of my life like this than not loving her at all. It’s the only thing I’m sure about.”

With that, Lou had finally burst like an overflowing river. She just couldn’t contain her emotions anymore. It was liberating in a way that she had never thought possible — and yet, she’d never felt heavier. As usual, she was a living and breathing contradiction.

After spending a few minutes just _processing_ everything that Lou had just admitted, Tammy broke the silence. “So,what do you wanna do?”

Lou looked up at her, still sitting a few inches below Tammy’s line of vision, and gave her a soft, bittersweet smile. “Oh, honey. I’ll keep doing what I’ve been doing for the past seven years. I’ll try to forget about it. In fact, you should do that, too.”

And with that, Lou got up and walked to the door, but before she went back inside, she turned her head slightly towards Tammy — not quite facing her — and thanked her.

***

Whenever Lou was upset or just sad, she would always find comfort in music.

As she grew older, she found that looking for release only through her own body wasn’t nearly enough to satiate her anymore; coming undone through wild and selfish sex, even the adrenaline, the feeling of imminent catastrophe and absolute powerlessness while diving through the clouds, after jumping from a _plane_ , only to be rescued by a piece of fabric — all of that wasn’t enough for Lou. Not anymore.

Of course, it had been Debbie who had taught her that the biggest thrill she could achieve was through her mind, her soul. Loving her so unconditionally was the biggest rush of adrenaline she had ever experienced.

So she slowly found herself craving something else. The expression of her own essence was the ultimate release. That’s when she started taking pictures, and writing poems that were only ever meant for her eyes only. That’s when she started playing instruments again.

And now, here Lou was, pouring out her emotions  — her fears, mostly, but her hopes too —  through her moving fingers against the black and white keys of her old piano.

Once belonging to her mother, the big instrument was positioned in the corner of the room, facing the large window that overlooked the whole city. Behind the piano was a low bookcase filled with some of Lou’s books, but mostly with her old sheet music.

It was a quarter to midnight and the girls had all gone home, and she had just felt the irresistible urge to play that piano.

Lou was playing one of the most beautiful songs she’s ever heard, _Una_ _Mattina_ by Ludovico Einaudi. It was also one of the most reminiscent songs for her, the music being able to take her right back to the past. She kept having flashes of images and scents while playing it: the smell of hot coffee and fresh out of oven croissants, of spring and its blossoming flowers, the feeling of the warm sunlight caressing her skin. The sight of tall, beautiful buildings in their characteristic Haussmann style. 

It was _Paris_ all over again.

 “I remember this song.”

The sudden, out of nowhere interruption was enough to make Lou jerk, causing the piano to erupt in a very cacophonous noise.

 “Jesus christ, Debbie! You scared the shit out of me,” Lou said while turning around to face the brunette.

Debbie walked across the living room, closing the distance between them, before sitting on one of the armrests of the small couch next to the piano. “Sorry. I thought you heard the door shutting close when I came in.”

 “Well, no. I was concentrating.” Lou said while lighting up a cigarette. “Didn’t you leave?”

 “Yeah, I did, but I forgot my scarf and my charger. I figured you would still be up so I thought, why not?” Debbie chuckled, then continued in a soft, but nevertheless confident voice, “Can I stay? I would love to listen..”

Lou took a puff from her cigarette and kept it loosely in her mouth as she sighed, “Yes, baby.You can stay as long as you want.” Then, she turned back to face the piano and started playing the same song from the beginning.

Neither of them had registered the spontaneity with which Lou had called Debbie _baby._

 


	7. Sharing scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is so far the longest chapter. Enjoy the angst and the little twist at the end.   
> I'm really grateful for all of your comments, thank you so much:)   
> Let me know what you think of this chapter.

Lou wasn’t sure how they had ended up on her bedroom floor. She didn’t know how the earlier events of that evening had eventually evolved into this — she couldn’t even recall how it had all began. Although, she’s pretty sure it had something to do with a certain unexpected phone call.  
***  
At first, when Lou’s phone rang in the middle of the night, she decided to ignore it and go back to sleep. 

Really, nobody called her this late. Not even her employees at the club, unless —as she specifically said — it was a life or death situation.

But when the phone kept ringing, twice and then three times, she got worried. She rolled over in bed and reached out to find the still-ringing device on her bedside table, squinting as the particularly harsh blue light disturbed her vision. The number calling her was unknown, which really didn’t help to placate the increasing worry.

“Hello?” Lou answered the phone, her voice still rough. 

“Hey, Lou? It’s Rob, from McSorley’s. I’m sorry to disturb you at such an hour but I think you should probably come here as soon as possible.” 

Rob was the bartender who worked at a pub where Lou and Debbie used to spend most of their weekends when they were together. He knew them very well, being the cause of the majority of their hangovers. Nevertheless, he was extremely protective towards Debbie and Lou, always looking out for them — and most importantly he was someone they trusted, even in their drunkest state.

“Wha? Why? What happened?” Lou asked, not really sure what could have possibly happened to cause a phone call at night from someone she hadn’t seen in half a decade.

“Debbie’s here, alone.” Rob answered, straight to the point. 

Lou didn’t need to hear more than that, she was already on her feet, frantically fumbling to find _any_ piece of clothing. She found the pair of grey sweatpants that she wore before bed, then she hastily put her old leather boots on. She didn’t bother changing the white t-shirt she uses as her pajamas.

She was out on the streets in less then three minutes. 

When she finally got at the bar almost half an hour later, she was immediately hit by the smell of peanuts and dried booze on wooden floor. 

She found Debbie in the far corner of the counter, visibly drunk, however still being able to keep her composure.

Debbie kept her back impossibly straight, and her head held high — always exuding confidence.   
Lou recognized that particular demeanor; it was Debbie’s fourth stage of drunkenness, in which she would usually get herself into conversations just to prove everybody how she was _always_ right — at least according to her — and she would never, ever take no for an answer. It was her smart-ass, stubborn, impossibly annoying stage. 

She was dressed in a long maroon gown — it had a deep cut which exposed her back beautifully. She wore incredible black high heels that showed a lacy pattern on the front, all the way to her ankles, which terminated in a strap, the sole of the shoes unmistakably red. Her hair was tied up in a loose, curly pony tail. 

No doubts she was too elegant for a place like this. 

“Hey, Deb.” Lou said while leaning on the counter with her left elbow, facing Debbie directly.

“Argh, you traitor!” Debbie put down the glass harshly on the counter, and shook her head slowly with a look of disappointment on her face aimed at Rob. If she wasn’t that drunk he wouldn’t had been able to say if she was being serious or simply joking. 

The bartender looked sincerely sorry. “I’m sorry, Deb. I had to.”

“Come on, woman.It’s time to get you home.” Lou said, gesturing at the door with her thumb. 

Debbie sighed and got up on unsteady feet, taking her clutch bag from the counter .“Okay, but I’m not paying for that last martini.” With that, she started walking towards the exit. 

Lou gripped Debbie’s arm with one hand while she quickly leant forward to leave a $20 bill on Rob’s counter, thanking him before finally leaving — but Debbie was already walking away, not bothering to wait for Lou any longer; she needed fresh air. 

By the time Lou caught up with her, Debbie was already leaning back against her bike, arms crossed and a serious look on her face. Lou approached her slowly, still unsure of how to read her. Drunk Debbie was always extremely unpredictable. 

Lou leaned back on the bike right next to her, then turned to face Debbie and tilted her head slightly, her eyes going back and forth scanning her expression, really studying her. She looked pissed off, maybe even sad — but mostly pissed off. 

 

She wondered what had happened.

A lock of hair was falling over Debbie’s face and Lou just had the irresistible urge to tuck it behind her ear. So she did. She reached out, casually taking that piece of hair between her fingers and putting it behind Debbie’s ear. She thought she might have lingered a little too long. For that matter, she shouldn’t even had been here; Lou treasured every possible moment in the presence of Debbie Ocean, but that didn’t mean that seeing her at night, beautifully uninhibited, and dressed so sinfully, wasn’t hard on her. 

Nevertheless, she already knew that no matter how excruciating, when Debbie called she would always be there for her. 

So, Lou _did_ reach her arm and lingered a little too long to remove stray hair from Debbie’s face, and she knew the feeling caused by that simple touch would haunt her dreams for a while. But she didn’t care.

She was pretty sure her heart missed a beat.

“You wanna tell me what happened?” Lou asked, while securing Debbie’s helmet over her head.

To that, Debbie didn’t respond. She simply avoided Lou’s inquisitive look.

Lou rolled her eyes and let out a long sigh shaking her head disapprovingly. “Okay, fine. You don’t wanna talk.” Lou said, while putting on her own helmet, then she looked back at Debbie, “Mount up.”

Debbie shifted her position and tried to climb up the bike as gracefully as possible – failing nonetheless. 

“Can’t you help me?” Debbie asked in a particularly drunken voice, clearly having lost all pretense of composure.

“Oh no, darling. I’m quite enjoying the show,” Lou said with a smirk on her face, and just kept watching Debbie who was still attempting to get on that _impossibly_ high bike.

Debbie finally managed to straddle the motorcycle behind Lou’s back, then she firmly gripped her mid-section pressing her whole body against Lou’s, her hands found their way under Lou’s leather Jacket, and she noticed that she must have been working out lately because she could clearly trace her strong abs with her fingers. Yet, she was still so very soft, just like she remembered. She leaned forward, tried to bury her nose in Lou’s back – as far as she could go with her helmet getting on the way – and she breathed in her scent from that spot between the collar of the jacket and the helmet that left her neck exposed. 

She didn’t know if she was more intoxicated by that, or by the incredible amount of alcohol she had in her system. 

_God, she must have been really drunk._

“Uh, Lou. My hotel is in the opposite direction,” Debbie said after Lou gave life to the engine.

 

“Yeah, no shit. I’m taking you home,” Lou replied matter-of-factly.

Debbie didn’t say anything, just nodded and braced herself for the ride.  
***  
They were now both sitting on the couch. Neither of them couldn’t go to bed just yet, too awake from the cold, midnight air. They fell in a comfortable silence for a while, waiting for Debbie to feel better before attempting to sleep, when Debbie finally spoke.

“Lou, you really didn’t have to come and get me, you know. I could have hailed a cab,” Debbie said. “I told Rob not to call you.”

Lou genuinely laughed at that. “That’s what partners do, right?” She looked so confident but in reality, she was just looking for confirmation. _They were still partners, the two of them, right?_

“Always, Lou. That hasn’t changed.” Debbie said, her mind suddenly feeling so much clearer. 

Lou smiled, giving Debbie a quick pat on her leg that was resting on the couch. 

“What?” Debbie asked, arching up an eyebrow in a questioning way.

Lou shifted, sitting on the edge of the couch, resting her elbows on her bent knees, a posture that was just so unmistakably _hers._

“Nothing…I’ve missed you.” Lou simply admitted, just like that. She didn’t plan on saying it, but now that the words were out of her mouth she felt like a heavy weight had been lifted off her chest. Lou was also tremendously scared, but she didn’t regret sharing her truth. 

Debbie rested her hand ever so lightly on Lou’s back, between her shoulder blades, wanting to get her attention, wanting to _really_ hear her saying it. “I’ve missed you too, Lou.” 

The mere sound of those words was enough to elicit a cascade of goosebumps down Lou’s spine, once again intoxicated by the woman she used to call _hers._ It amazed Lou how she could still feel like she could drown in Debbie’s presence. 

Debbie’s hand was still touching that spot on Lou’s back, the only thing preventing their skin to make contact was the thin layer of Lou’s t-shirt. 

She just couldn’t take it anymore.

Lou rose abruptly from the couch, causing Debbie to jerk. The sudden movement leaving Lou’s lower back exposed, that part of her body she always manages so expertly to conceal – revealing a long, ugly scar that seemed to run from her hip all down to her leg. 

She clearly wasn’t fast enough to cover it because Debbie noticed. She noticed and she already had her hand tightly gripping Lou’s t-shirt, preventing her from walking away.

And Lou knew that Debbie had noticed it. She saw it in her eyes, and in the way she was already asking for more. It was Debbie’s look of needing the whole picture, desperately putting all of the pieces into place. 

“What happened?” Debbie asked, standing up to look her in the eyes.

By the time she finished her sentence, Lou was already heading for the kitchen. “Oh nothing, honey. It’s just a big scratch.” She said in an all too casual way. 

“Like hell it is,” Debbie exclaimed while following Lou in the kitchen.

Oh, she knew that look on Lou’s face — it was her _drop the argument, Deborah_ , kind of look — and it was infuriating. Lou kept pouring herself a glass of neat vodka while smoking a newly lit cigarette, careful to avoid any eye contact with the brunette, and that particular attitude was enough to make Debbie lose her temper.

She quickly took the cigarette right from Lou’s mouth and dropped it in her vodka.

“Jeez, Deborah. What the fuck is wrong with you?” said Lou while picking up her glass, looking at the now floating cigarette in her drink. 

Debbie hardened her expression and crossed her arms, then said “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what happened.” 

“Why do you _always_ have to do this? Interrogate, not minding your own business? Why do you care?” Lou asked narrowing her eyes and crossing her arms as well, mirroring Debbie’s posture, although she didn’t wait too long for an answer. She had already enough of that argument, so she simply walked past Debbie and headed for her room. Once again, Debbie followed her. 

She found Lou picking something from her dresser, then she threw an oversized t-shirt at Debbie. 

“Here, change your clothes. You can sleep wherever you want. There’s a spare tooth brush in the bathroom cabinet and you can find some extra bed sheets in the guest room.” Lou was monotonously talking, never quite facing Debbie, while she kept walking around the room, picking up discarded pillows and dirty clothes from the floor, looking like she was cleaning up her room at 1:30 in the morning. 

She was erratic, keeping herself occupied. Debbie could see it. She could see her hands trembling, she could see her holding her breath. 

“Lou,” Debbie said softly, not really eliciting any response.“Look at me,” She added,more firmly this time.

That finally caused Lou to look up, stopping in her tracks. She just stood there, looking away from Debbie, clearly holding back her emotions. Always the strong one, always hiding everything inside. She looked so fragile, something Debbie wasn’t really accustomed to, and she just couldn’t take it anymore — she took a long step to get closer to Lou and placed her hands on her neck, on her cheeks, gently caressing the spot underneath Lou’s eyes, prompting a strangled cry from her.

Debbie knew her. She knew Lou better then she did herself. She knew that Lou was afraid to show her weaknesses; it was the demon that always crept up her spine, the fear of failure, of inadequacy. The fear of not being strong enough or good enough. And she fights it, she always does, only this time Debbie didn’t know for how long she’d been fighting against this one.

Debbie slowly lowered herself and Lou on the bed so that they were both sitting on the edge. She let go of Lou’s hands and reached her arm around her own back, unzipping her dress and then proceeded to carefully slide it off her shoulders. 

Lou groaned at the sight of Debbie’s skin being exposed and turned her head away, closing her eyes. She already had so many images of Debbie’s body hunting her dreams, she surely didn’t need a fresh one. 

“No. Look at me,” Debbie spoke softly, putting two fingers under Lou’s chin making her look again.

Debbie knew that what she was doing was an hazard, making Lou witness her baring her body in front of her, but it was the only thing she could do to make her understand. She _needed_ Lou to understand that she wasn’t alone. So she took one of Lou’s hands again and this time she laid it on the side of her stomach, allowing Lou to feel the uneven thick line that now marked her skin. 

Lou’s hand started hesitantly exploring , registering the new feature on Debbie’s body. In Lou’s eyes, Debbie could read a myriad of questions, but before she could formulate one she spoke again.

“I had been inside for seven months when this happened. Another inmate, who apparently ran that shit-hole, thought that my attitude was too ‘hostile’ for a newcomer. So she stabbed me with an improvised weapon she made herself…” Debbie trailed off, taking a few seconds to recollect her thoughts. It was hard enough to have experienced such fear, but telling it out loud was a whole different story. Then she continued, “I still don’t know what it was, though. They wouldn’t tell me.” Debbie let out a long sigh and looked up. 

_She could do this. For Lou._

“It was hard, you know… Not the pain — that I could manage. It was the never-ending fear of… being alone, and not being alone, of losing my shit. I was scared.” Debbie finally admitted, to Lou, but mostly to herself.  
Lou’s mind was racing, filled with images of Debbie, and an increasing need to protect her.

Before Lou could say anything, Debbie turned around facing her with her back. She immediately felt a hand softly caressing that part of her skin – still sensitive to the touch – in the upper right side of her back, near her scapula. 

“That was eight months ago. Happened during a riot,” Debbie said shrugging it off like it was something just as ordinary as taking the bus.

When she turned around again to face Lou, she noticed the silent tears making their way down her cheeks. The pain the scene in front of her was evoking, was utterly suffocating. 

_Empathy:_ the ability of understanding and sharing another person’s thoughts, feelings, and conditions from their point of view. It’s a human trait that makes us capable of compassion. But if you couple that with the feelings they both had for each other, it makes it even easier to experience the other’s pain, fulfilling the literal meaning of the latin word compassion — _cum patior_ : suffer with.

It was all Debbie could think about while looking at Lou’s eyes, swirling with emotions; she could see it in them that the mechanism had been sparked. 

And Lou. It was like she could feel the cold blade ripping her own skin open. 

“Lou… I’m right here,” Debbie said, gripping Lou’s hand once again.

With that, everything unfolded naturally. 

Lou grabbed her own t-shirt and pulled it over her head, leaving her torso almost completely naked except for her black lacy bra, then she got rid of her pants, and finally exposed her body now marked by several different scars. The first one Debbie noticed was the long one that starts from her right hip all down to the front of her thigh. She noticed another big one on her left knee, and several others spread across her body, from her clavicle to the upper arms, and some very small on her stomach. 

“I fell off my bike,” Lou finally broke the silence, taking in a big breath. 

“How? When?” Debbie asked, her voice barely audible. 

Lou left out a small bitter laugh, shaking her head to herself. “The night of your sentence…” She trailed off, letting her quite confession linger in the air. 

Debbie brought a hand up, covering her mouth. Her eyes closed, taking in the meaning behind Lou’s admission. 

 

She did understand now.

That’s when her body was inexplicably drawn to her. Debbie needed to touch her, to feel her.   
To just _feel_ her skin connecting to the warmth of Lou’s. Her hands were quickly around her back, intertwined with her blonde hair, caressing her neck and cheeks, and she just couldn’t get enough of her. 

Lou was on fire. She felt her entire body giving in to the touch of the woman in front of her. She thought there was simply no amount of time that would ever be enough to satisfy the need of feeling closer to her.

Debbie’s presence reminded Lou of how her body had fallen into a sleeping state for so long, how her senses had been dimmed, had been blinded. The simplest of touches ignited the strongest fire and although she was burning, she realized that Debbie was both the fire lighting her alive and the water to placate it. 

In a matter of seconds they found themselves on the floor, Lou’s back resting on the big furry carpet, the red of it a beautiful contrast to her pale skin. 

“You’re the most beautiful sight I’ve ever laid my eyes on,” Debbie stated, tracing all Lou’s scars with her fingers, letting her know she was more beautiful than ever. Letting her know how strong she was. 

And oh, those words felt so magically prophetic.

Lou smiled, and put her hand behind Debbie’s neck, pulling her in for the thing she had been craving the most for more than half a decade. She had one hand still buried in long brown hair while she used the other to shift herself and Debbie in a sitting position. Both their legs were now wrapped around each other, keeping their bodies as close as possible. Debbie’s hands were all over Lou, on her back, on her arms, her breasts, remembering what it feels like to touch her, then Lou pulled Debbie’s head back gripping her hair, wanting complete access to the softness of her neck. She kissed every inch of her skin up to her jawline, then brushed her lower lip with her tongue, and finally took it in her mouth. In that very kiss, Lou poured out her soul — the grief, the anger, the love she had for Debbie, the newly found hope. 

Lou stopped for a second to _look_ at Debbie, and saw everything she was offering staring right back at her, in the depth of Debbie’s eyes.  
***  
They fell asleep in each other’s arms, committing to memory again the pattern of their breathings and the sound of their beating hearts.


	8. Divine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, here's my other chapter, I'm definetly going to delve into their past more from the next one. Also, more Tammy to come.  
> I hope you enjoy this. As always, thank you so much for your comments, I love reading them.

Lou had awokewith a slight tingling in her arm. Her eyes were still closed as her brain tried to register her surroundings,mind still foggy from her slumber. She could tell she wasn’t lying on the softness of her mattress by the dull pain spreading over her lower back and hips — her neck was stiff, and she had a weird sensation of a weight preventing the natural rhythm of her ribcage. 

She opened one eye to look around the room, confirming her suspicion that she was indeed lying on her bedroom floor. 

Her mind was clearer, now — images of the events of the night came back in an instant. Lou finally looked down to find Debbie still wrapped around her body, her head resting on her chest. She let her hand run through Debbie’s long hair, caressing her temple and cheek, letting her fingers trace the shape of her jawline. Then she leaned forward, and rested her lips against Debbie’s head, her eyes closed, breathing her in.

The mere thought that she could do all of this again — not having to worry whether or not she lingered a little too long — was utterly electrifying. 

Quickly glancing at her watch,Lou realized it was only 4:25 in the morning, too early to wake up — New York City was still dormant — yet, she couldn’t continue sleeping on the floor when they both could peacefully rest in the comfort of her bed. 

But she really didn’t want to wake her up. In her sleeping state, Debbie looked so peaceful and ethereal. It was inexplicably intoxicating, as if she was witnessing the most intimate side of a goddess, and Lou felt absolutely lucky to have been granted such a privilege. She had seen Debbie sleeping multiple times, and as much as the feeling of this experience was powerful back then, the time they had spent apart had made Debbie seem like a distant dream — a mirage — so it was only natural that now Lou could hardly contain her emotions, barely holding back tears of pure joy. 

She tried to stir her, gently stroking the arm that was still draped over her stomach and brushing her lips against her head. Lou wanted to kiss her back to consciousness. After a few seconds the body intertwined with hers started to move, and Lou noticed Debbie’s eyelids fluttering, finally opening her eyes. 

Lou spoke in a soft, yet husky voice, “Hey, baby.” God, she hadn’t called her _baby_ in so long. “Let’s get to bed, shall we?” 

She gave Debbie a few minutes to adjust then slowly extricated her body and stood up, reaching out one hand to help her. 

Debbie got up as well and Lou finally had a chance to _really_ appreciate her beautiful figure — her strong legs, her exposed sex, the swell of her breasts. She was downright divine. Lou closed the distance between their bodies and put both hands under Debbie’s bottom, slightly lifting her from the ground, just enough to gently place her on the bed. Debbie, almost sheepishly, bent her knees and twisted her legs sideway, leaving her back flat on the mattress, which caused her body to create a beautiful sharp line. Her ribcage emphasized, her breasts completely exposed. 

Lou walked around the bed and gracefully climbed up on it, crawling her way to Debbie. She placed one hand on Debbie’s knee and parted her legs, then positioned herself between them. 

“Hey,” Lou said, touching Debbie’s cheek and stroking the soft spot under her eyes. 

Debbie smiled, still a little unfocused from her slumbered state, then she reached her arm up to replicate Lou’s gesture. Their mouths connected in a sweet, exploring kiss, and when they finally broke, Lou could see that Debbie was now completely awake, her eyes so much clearer. She could tell by the way her breathing had changed, becoming fast and short, by the way Debbie’s hands were firmly gripping Lou’s arms. By the way she started unknowingly rotating her hips, seeking more. 

Earlier that night, their connection had been erratic, passionate and hungry. It had been an explosion of emotions, guided by sorrowful events. A painful exposition of two scarred bodies that culminated in a passionate claim to each other’s feelings. But now Lou wanted to take her time exploring Debbie’s body, learn new things and remember old ones. She wanted to worship her, to make her open up and let her see what her presence alone could do to Lou. 

Lou started kissing her way down Debbie’s neck, taking in her scent. She licked that spot between her collarbones, tasting her skin, then continued her descent down along Debbie’s chest. Her mouth opened leaving a wet trail on her breast, until she found her nipple — she sucked hard on it, eliciting a deep, throaty moan from the brunette, and Lou looked up to see Debbie panting, her eyes closed in pleasure. 

Abruptly, Lou pulled awayfrom Debbie’s breast, instead taking one of Debbie’shands, placing it against her own cheek. She kissed her wrist before speaking, “I want you to look me in the eyes all the way through this. Do you think you can do that?”

Debbie visibly gulped, her mouth suddenly feeling too dry. Lou’s bedroom voice was enough to make her mind cease to properly function. She nodded vigorously and replied short-breathed. “Yeah, I can do that.”

Lou planted a quick and modest kiss on Debbie’s mouth. “Good,”she saidbefore sliding her hand down Debbie’s stomach and finding her way between her folds. 

She reached her slit and slowly ran her fingers up and down, spreading the slick wetness she found there. Debbie’s low moan reverberated around the room, and she kept her sight fixated on Lou. She felt completely exposed — the mere thought of Lou being able to witness her undoing in the depth of her eyes was terrifying, especially considering that it had been years since she let herself be this open with _anyone_ — but at the same time, it was undoubtedly one of the most erotic thingsDebbie had ever experienced.

Lou kept stroking Debbie’s pussy while her other hand was massaging her breasts, twisting her nipples with alternated pressure, relishing every uncontrolled movement Debbie made with her body, taking in the sight of her pure bliss.

Then, she let the moment she pinched one of Debbie’s nipples coincide with the moment she finally pressed on her clit. A throaty moan escaped Debbie’s mouth, and watching the brunette scream in pleasure, widen her eyes— which were still obediently fixated on hers — was enough to make Lou’s wetness dribble down her legs.

The scent of their love making was intoxicatingand Lou felt the increasing need to taste her, to have her essence coating her tongue. As if Debbie was able to read her mind, she firmly put her hand around Lou’s neck, gripping and silently encouraging her to move her head down. 

“Lou, _please_.” 

The sound of her begging made a needy whimper escape Lou’s mouth. She slowly slid down Debbie’s body, her fingers still creating small, slow circles across Debbie’s clit, and started kissing and biting the inside of her thighs — marking Debbie as _hers_ once again. Because at some point, she might have stopped being Debbie’s, but Debbie had never stopped being hers. 

Lou’s mouth was now hovering over Debbie’s entrance, waiting to just connect with her tongue. She gently caressed her clit with her thumb before speaking:

“Look at me.” 

With her blue eyes darkened, clouded with lust and greed — deeply fixated on Debbie’s — she finally lowered her mouth to her cunt. 

Lou was devouring her, drinking her in. Debbie wanted to watch as Lou was buried between her thighs, feasting on her essence with hunger. Lou was indeed hungry, she had been _starving_ for almost a decade — so Debbie leant forward, supporting her weight on her elbows, and put her hand on Lou’s head, gripping her blonde hair. 

At the feeling of Debbie’s hand in her hair Lou grinned, then she slowly, sinfully licked the entire length of her slit. Debbie’s body shivered in responseand she let out a small mewl to let her know she wanted more. 

Lou was exploding, she couldn’t get enough of her. She couldn’t get enough of her scent, her sounds, the taste of her on her tongue. The thought of being able to bring _Debbie_ such pleasure was one of the most arousing things. Her need and desire for her turned into a religious experience, a celebration of the rediscovered passion and love.   
_God, how she loved that woman._

She wanted to see Debbie come undone, she wanted to consume her, restore her. Lou needed to be closer, to be completely connected. Maybe even selfishly so.

Swiftly, she entered Debbie with two fingers, causing Debbie to throw her head back in absolute ecstasy. “Fuck! God, Lou!” 

Lou waited briefly for her body to adjust, then inserted another finger, her movements picking up speed, becoming increasingly powerful and erratic. She grabbed Debbie’s breast and with the last touch of her tongue on her clit, the arms that were supporting Debbie’s weight finally gave out. 

They looked in each other’s eyes for one more second where Lou could see a myriad of emotions, the plea, the lust, the gratitude — where she could finally see Debbie relinquishing her control. Then Debbie let out a last deep, throaty moan before finally climaxing. 

Lou’s fingers were still stroking Debbie’s clit, ever so slightly as she waited for her orgasm to completely subside.

When Debbie finally stopped shaking, Lou smoothed her hand down along her own body, inserting two, then three of her fingers that were still coated in Debbie’s wetness. The feeling of her own touch and the sight of Debbie watching her as she expertly fucked herself, made Lou’s entire body tremble. She groaned out loud — a deep, savage groan — as Debbie replaced her hand with her own and brought Lou right to the edge. 

“Baby, let go,” Debbie whispered with the sweetest look of awe in her eyes, admiring the way Lou’s body came undone, sealing that image in her brain. 

Lou rolled away from her body, taking Debbie with her, and placed her head on her chest. They were both spent and sated, still covered in sweat that was now cooling off on their bodies. Debbie’s naked body was comfortably wrapped around Lou’s arms, both their figures being exquisitely bathed in moonlight. 

Their eyes locked and in that moment it was as if they were able to share a strange, complex revelation — their darkest secrets and deepest fears momentarily washed away by the perfection of their union. 

Lou reached out one arm to grab the package of Marlboros on her bedside table, took one in her mouth and sparked it up. The room was soon filled with the smell of sex and smoke. Debbie looked up, rested her chin on Lou’s sternum and lightly traced the line of her jaw with her fingers, observing as the blonde kept taking long drags on her cigarette with such self-confidence. It was impossible not to be mesmerized, as if Lou was well aware she had that effect on her. 

After several minutes of just _being_ in each other’s company, Debbie furrowed her brows in a contemplative manner, then suddenly rose and straddled Lou’s lap. Her hands started wandering over her body, tracing the marks that now resided on her smooth skin. It wasn’t exploratory and new like it had been earlier that night, it was more thoughtful and attentive, which made it even more excruciating.

She needed to know more. She needed the whole story. 

Debbie knew she was making Lou uncomfortable by the way her breathing changed, how she kept her eyes tightly shut, and by the way she felt her heart beating fast under her palms.

“Lou…” Debbie softly spoke her name, trying to get her attention, but Lou’s eyes were still closed when she replied. 

“Not now, Deb.”

If they were to start that conversation, Lou was absolutely sure she would implode, and she didn’t want to — she didn’t want to crumble, not right now when all she wanted to do was hold Debbie in her arms ‘till morning. If she had to be honest, she didn’t want to talk about that fateful day ever again. 

“Then when?” Debbie asked, persistent as always.

Lou sighed, looked her in the eyes with an hint of a smile. “Another time.”

Debbie knew Lou was shutting her out, meticulously guarding her emotions once again. She had been lucky enough earlier, when she managed to draw out of her that small confession about the accident, but she knew she couldn’t push it any further.

“Okay,” she simply replied, before resuming her position in Lou’s arms. 

***

That morning, they woke up around 10 AM. They had breakfast together on Lou’s terrace — the table was set with crystal glasses for their orange juice and fancy porcelain plates for their fruit and pancakes. Lou was always extra careful with details. They drank their coffee in a comfortable silence, laying down in the long chairswhile Debbie scrolled through her iPad and Lou read the newspaper. 

Debbie was wearing an Iron Maiden oversized t-shirt, the one that Lou gave her the night before, and Lou was still stark-naked,except for her completely opened robe which did nothing to cover her beautiful body. 

Neither of them acknowledged the fact they still needed to talk, about everything. Neither of them had any particular interest in breaking the spell. They simply enjoyed their first morning together in seven long years.

***

It was afternoon, close to 5 PM when Tammy saw her phone buzzing to life with a picture of Debbie Ocean on the screen, calling her. 

“Hey, Deb. What’s up?” Tammy answered,keeping her voice barely audible since she was still at the office taking care of an important project she’d been assigned to. Her supervisorwasn’t keen on having employees answering their phones for personal businesses. 

“Hey, Tam. When’s your coffee break? I wanted to stop by.” Debbie asked. 

Tammy quickly glanced at her watch. “Um, I’m supposed to get off at six. We could meet at the coffeehouse around the corner.” 

“Awesome. See you there, then.” Debbie said before hanging up. 

 

Debbie was already sitting at the table near the big window and had ordered two strong coffees for her and her friend. She saw Tammy outside fumbling with an umbrella, trying to close it before entering the coffee shop. It was now raining outside and dull grey light had invaded the city. It felt relaxing and appropriate at the same time, the turbulent weather matching the state of Debbie’s mood. 

“Hey, sorry I kept you waiting. They wouldn’t let me go until I submitted the portfolio they asked for, and then the kids called ‘cause they were fighting over some stupid video game, and then I had to call the nanny to let her know that I would be home a little later today. “ Tammy sighed, exhausted. “Anywho. How are you doing?”

Debbie chuckled at her friend. She was really amazed at how Tammy managed to keep it all together — it made her proud. “I’m good. I wanted to see you, and… I was hoping we could talk.”

Tammy squinted at her, trying to decipher her expression. Debbie had a weird sparkle in her eye, telling her that something had happened, something new and possibly exciting, but the sound of her voice and the way she trailed off in the last sentence gave her away. Tammy knew Debbie like the back of her hand — there wasn’t anything she could hide from her, and she was absolutely certain that something was bothering her friend. 

“What did you want to talk about?” Tammy asked with her inquisitive tone. 

Debbie looked down and smiled, lost in reminiscence. “Something happened.” And the way her voice softened when answering her question, was enough to make Tammy click with realization.

“Oh god, Debbie… Tell me you didn’t.” Tammy’s features hardened with concern and Debbie was pretty sure she could see a hint of disappointmentthere as well.

Debbie’s demeanor changed, visibly defensive. “What, Tammy? What wasn’t I supposed to do?” 

“You slept with her.” 

It wasn’t a question, Tammy knew that already. It was written all over Debbie’s face and she could read her like an open book. She kept talking, repeatedly tapping her index finger on the table in emphasis. “I don’t wanna know about it. I don’t want to be part of it. I just don’t.”

Debbie was momentarily taken aback by the resolute bluntness of Tammy’s words. 

“What’s your problem?” she asked, genuinely unaware as to why her friend would react like this.

Tammy leaned forward, her posture still very stiff, and lined her eyes with Debbie’s before replying, “What did you want to talk about?” 

She wasn’t even asking. Tammy already knew where this conversation was heading.

Debbie softened, giving into Tammy’s stern attitude. “About Lou…I know about the accident, but…” she trailed off, letting out a long sigh. “She doesn’t wanna talk about it.” 

The moments those words were out of her mouth,Debbie immediately regretted saying anything at all. She regretted coming here, hoping to find answers she didn’t know she even wanted. 

Debbie regretted it all when she witnessed the swirl of emotions that shaped Tammy’s expression. She looked protective, but mostly she looked sad, as if Debbie had exhumed one painful part of her past — as if she had reopened a precariously healed wound. And she saw deep knowledge in her eyes, too.

Tammy cleared her voice before speaking again. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” She sighed, almost in defeat, and ran her hands down her face, rubbing her temples. “Deb, you can’t just disappear from someone’s life for _seven_ years, then barge yourself back in it like a bulldozer. You can get people really hurt.”

“She’s fine, Tammy. Lou’s fine. Besides, we were _both_ in it together.” Debbie responded, all too oblivious for Tammy’s liking.

So she retorted harshly: “Then why are you here?” 

Debbie didn’t answer that, shedidn’t know how. Why was she here? She wanted to know more about Lou, she wanted answers she knew Lou wasn’t willing to give, she wanted the whole picture. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized she had no information to begin with, only the vague knowledge that Lou fell from her bike. Something Louhad chosen to share with her in a moment of weakness. Nevertheless, the confession had been carefully restricted. 

Tammy didn’t wait for Debbie to come up with a response.

“C’mon, Deborah. You’re smarter than that. We both know there are two things Lou’s great at: hiding her emotions and go over fucking high cliffs for you.” 

Debbie shook her head, wanting to protest. “That’s not…” 

She was abruptly cut short by her friend,“Just don’t.” 

Tammy held a hand up, gesturing her to stop talking, then she took a long breath meant to steady her nerves before speaking: “You seriously have _no_ idea. You weren’t there to pick up the pieces you left discarded. You weren’t there to watch her _begging_ me to let her finish that bottle of vodka, nor when she crashed that damn bike because of it — because of me. You weren’t there to see the look on her face when she woke up at the hospital a week later. You weren’t there when she struggled to put all the pieces back together, and you definitely weren’t there to see her _finally_ choosing to get better.” 

She blurted out a painful truth, something Tammy never thought she would have to share. She knew it was wrong and mean, but she wanted Debbie to understand at least half of what Lou had been through, what she herself had been through as well.

Then Tammy continued, a little softer this time. “And she did. She did get better. She glued all of the tiny fragments back together, because she’s strong — she’s _so_ strong. But that doesn’t mean you can’t still see the cracks threatening to shatter whenever you’re near her.” 

Debbie’s heart was racing, her hands trembling, and fresh tears were on the verge of spilling down her face. She couldn’t form any logical thought, couldn’t let out a single word, she just stared blankly through the window, at nothing in particular. Then she felt a warm hand clutching her arm tightly, Tammy seemed to had regain her composure, sympathetic.

“I’m sorry, Deb. I really am.” She stood up and walked to Debbie extending one hand towards her. 

“Let’s get out of here. This is no place for such conversation.”

Debbie absently nodded at herand got up from the chair as well, following Tammy who was now heading towards the exit. They hailed a cab and went straight to Debbie’s hotel room.


	9. Cupid and Psyche

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter resumes right after the events of the last one. There's more of Tammy and Debbie as I really love their dinamic, and there's a background story taking place in the past after which we go back to the original timing.  
> Keep in mind that, no matter how angsty my chapters turn out, there will certainly be an happy ending, so please bear with me:) As usual, thank you for all of your support, I've been so pleased to read your beautiful comments.

The hotel Debbie was living in was particularly luxurious: the room was one of the biggest, it had a beautiful view on Central Park, and the style and details of the interior were simply exquisite. The furniture gave a certain classic modern vibe to the suite.

Tammy was casually looking around, scanning her surroundings, taking in the place Debbie had been calling home since she got back her freedom. She noticed that her big walk-in closet was empty except for one single trench coat — the rest of her clothes were being kept neatly folded in her Louise Vuitton suitcases, her shoes all lined up on the ground right in front of the big floor to ceiling window.

The environment of the room felt oddly aseptic, the only thing giving a personal touch and a hint of warmth was the framed picture of Danny that she kept on her night stand.

“Why are you still living here? It’s not that you lack the money to buy yourself a place,” Tammy asked Debbie, while she kept observing the details around her, paying extra attention to the high-quality velvet drapes. 

“Um, I don’t know. I still haven’t figured out what to do next,” Debbie chuckled, shaking her head to herself. “I have no idea what I’m gonna do _tomorrow_ , for that matter.”

Tammy closed the distance between them and placed a gentle hand on Debbie’s shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out. After all, you’re the best at planning.” 

Debbie gave a quick pat on her hand, smiling, well-aware that she was indeed pretty great at planning, although it seemed that particular skill didn’t apply to her personal life anymore.

Tammy walked to the big king-size bed and plopped down onto it. She felt incredibly nervous, especially resentful towards the brunette, and although it was a feeling she had grown accustomed to throughout the years she was in jail, she had no desire in feeling that way.

She loved her friend very much, and Tammy felt for her, for everything she’d been through. She was sure that Debbie’s irrational actions weren’t calculated, that she had lost sight of what was really important to her — and in a moment of complete madness and impulsiveness she made one big, giant mistake. Still, she couldn’t shake the anger out of her system. 

Tammy looked up only to be met by one sombre expression. Debbie looked genuinely lost, as if she didn’t know what to expect, and she dreaded the inevitable outcome. 

“So, what did you wanna know?” The blonde woman finally spoke after several minutes of silence, while nervously sliding her hands up and down her jeans, trying to get rid of the excessive sweat. 

“I don’t know. Everything, I suppose?” Debbie took a step back, leaning against the wooden dresser on the opposite side of the room, facing Tammy directly.

Tammy looked truly solemn when she spoke again.“That I can’t do, Deb. I’m not gonna tell you _everything_ if Lou’s still not ready to share. I’m gonna tell you what’s hopefully enough to make you understand, but nothing more.” 

Debbie nodded. “I guess I can work with that.” 

She understood Tammy, Debbie knew that she was remarkably loyal when it came to friendships. Nevertheless, she was still particularly amazed at how she was able to keep her values so strong. 

Tammy had really no clue on how to start this conversation; she didn’t know what Lou had already shared and what she chose to keep to herself. She didn’t know how to tell the story from an unbiased point of view. So Tammy figured it would be easier if she found out how much of it Debbie already knew. “Did she tell you when all of this started?” 

“Yeah, the night of my sentence,” Debbie answered confidently.

“No. That was the accident. It started the minute you chose Claude over her to pull that last job before you’re ass was thrown in the slammer. Don’t get me wrong…she was devastated when you left, but I think _that’s_ the moment she realized she truly lost you, when you were done with your relationship as well as you partnership.” Tammy eyes were piercing. Her voice was soft and calm, but firm nonetheless.

Debbie furrowed her brows, her expression twisting into one of pure distress. “Tammy, I…” 

Tammy interjected once again before she could continue. “No, I don’t wanna hear you _finally_ voicing out your first words of explanation. It isn’t me to whom you owe that apology.”

Debbie’s posture stiffened for a fraction of a second, but then immediately relaxed, letting out a long sigh. “You’re right.”

Tammy snapped, shaking her head. “Damn right I am.”

“You’re really pissed.” The words came out softer than Debbie had intended, more like an acknowledgement of the so evident consequences of her choices. She never really thought that her actions could affect other people to such an extent, and the realization felt utterly frightening.

“Debbie, she’s my friend. I saw my friend suffer in a way that is barely imaginable, you have no…” She trailed off, taking a long, shaky breath. Her voice was strangled by emotions. “I can’t let you screw her up again. I just can’t. It’s not fair.”

Those words punched Debbie right in the gut, she felt like a claw was clenching around her insides, her breath cut short. She felt dizzy, as if the ground was about to collapse on itself, and images of Lou started flooding her mind.

“I’ve never wanted her to suffer, Tammy. Believe me when I say that it’s the furthest thing from the truth.” Debbie’s vision was now a blur, distorted by tears.

Tammy got up from the bed and reached Debbie, taking her hands as she spoke — softer this time, but still assertive. 

“I know, Deb. I know that. I only want you to understand that it doesn’t matter why you did what you did, or… _how_ you you chose to do that. It doesn’t change how she felt about it. It doesn’t change how she spent — almost two whole years of her life. I told you, she’s the strongest person I’ve ever met, but there’s only so much a person can take, and _you_ know, you know more than anyone, that she had to struggle her entire life. “

Tammy paused, reached a hand to Debbie’s face and wiped away the silent tears that were now leaving wet paths on her cheeks. Then she turned around, took her bag, and headed for the door — but before leaving, she stopped to face Debbie once again.

“I want you to understand that if you are going to enter her life again, it has to be for good, Debbie. You’re either in or you’re out. No more bullshit.”

With that, she left the hotel room, leaving Debbie with her thoughts, with this new found knowledge. Tammy knew she hadn’t been fair with her, she knew she had been too harsh. 

She really hoped she would be able to forgive her.

***

ROMA – May, 2010

“25…27…29…I think we found it!” Debbie shouted looking at the numbers on each door, while holding a map and her phone with the address of the apartment they had rented. 

“Yeah, I think that’s it,” Lou replied, looking up at the colorful building.

Debbie lowered the map and turned around to face Lou. “The landlord said we could pick up the keys at the café across the street.”

“Yeah, and I assume that’s the café,” Lou said facing the characteristic place that said _‘BAR’_ on its sign.

“Goodmorning, we’re here for the keys to the apartment over there.” Debbie spoke, pointing in the direction of building. “Mr. Mancini told us you’d be able to help us.”

There was a man behind the counter who looked to be in his late sixties. He was quite short, with grey hair and white mustache. He also smiled a lot, which made Lou and Debbie immediately think he was extremely nice. “Oh yes, yes. You’re the Americans. I knew you were arriving. Hold on a second.” 

The man walked away and disappeared behind a back door, only to come out a minute later with the set of keys in hand.

“Here you are, ladies. Have a nice stay in Roma.” The elderly man said while waving at them, a smile still wide on his face.

“Thank you so much.” They both waved back at him, thinking that they might come back in the morning to have breakfast at the nice café.

 

The keys opened a particularly old wooden door, in front of them there was a narrow and equally old flight of stairs that lead to the entrance of the apartment. At the end of the stairs was a second door, painted crimson red that opened to the hallway. The whole place was illuminated magnificently by the natural light coming from the many windows. 

Lou and Debbie took a few minutes just to take in all the details of their surroundings. The floor at the entrance was beautifully adorned by a Roman mosaic — a pretty, decorative piece of art that the two women instantly felt terrible about walking on.

On the left they found three small steps that lead to the kitchen through an archway.

Lou climbed the very short flight of stairs to take a better look at the room. It was old, but extremely characteristic: there was a gas stove and a fridge that probably dated back to the 60’s and a small wooden countertop where they could cook. Another arch created an opening on the wall from where they could see the dining area that was four feet below the level of the kitchen floor. 

At the other end of the hallway was a large room with very high ceilings, a queen-sized mattress on the floor and a leather couch leaning against the wall under a big window. On the floor next to the mattress were a pile of books of all sorts, and in the corner of the room sat an antique armchair and a floor lamp, a cozy reading area.

The style of the room was extremely minimal, nevertheless it felt absolutely perfect for the two of them.

After they finished unpacking, they decided to have lunch at one of the many restaurants in the area, wanting to deeply submerge themselves in the Italian culture. They had an exquisite traditional meal accompanied by a fine red wine from a Tuscan vineyard.

“Where do you wanna go next?” Lou asked, after taking a sip of her wine, savoring it.

Debbie smiled. “Wherever you wanna go, babe.” 

Lou grinned. She loved when Debbie called her babe with that smile on her face. She could never get tired of it. “Okay, I’m taking you to the museums, then.” 

They roamed around the city for hours, taking in the smell of the approaching summer, surrounded by imperial architecture and Renaissance churches, got lost among baroque paintings and discovered the beauty of some of the most important monuments. 

It was a place where they could experience the evident passing of time and feel like no time has passed at all, their own bodies and minds becoming an extension of the city; they became part of it, part of the history and the ongoing present — as if they could still hear words delivered in small whispers by the phantoms of the ancient city. 

Lou particularly loved Roma. It was her second time in the city, the first being with her parents when she was only twelve. She remembered her mother, clear as day, telling her she should come back when she was older with the love of her life because there was nothing more beautiful and poetic than being in the ‘Eternal city’ with the person you loved. She remembered cringing at the words of her mother talking about something so weird and foreign, as the concept of romance sounded weird to a little girl.

But now she understood. Lou got the meaning behind those words whenever she looked at Debbie. She knew what her mother meant, as there was nothing more ravishing than gazing at the woman she loved, studying her profile, searing permanently on her mind the images of her features under the flaming, golden sunlight. 

When thinking about all of this, Lou couldn’t be more certain that there was no better person than Debbie to be in this city with.

The night came, and after two rounds of pure, hard fucking on the floor, they were finally in bed, tired but content nevertheless. The were both lying on the mattress facing each other. Lou was gently tracing Debbie’s lower lip with her finger, while Debbie was lightly twirling the blonde’s hair. 

“I love you.” Debbie said, the words coming out of her mouth softly and tremendously deep, as if they were sacred. As if it was a prayer.

Lou took a long deep breath, like she was literally breathing in those words into her body. It wasn’t the first time she heard them, they had told each other _I love you_ in the past, but it was usually reserved for particular moments. They were always voiced from the depth of their hearts, when the feelings for each other would simply overflow and their mouths couldn’t keep them in anymore. It was always a burst, an explosion of powerful feelings. So, whenever they would say those three words, it was always the most precious and valued of moments.

It was like an eclipse — rare but the beauty of it purely magnificent, something capable of taking their breath away.

Lou didn’t respond. She didn’t need to. It was all in her eyes, in the way she put her hand around Debbie’s neck to pull her in and kiss her like her life depended on it. 

They stayed wrapped around each other for a long time, in silence or talking about small things, before Debbie spoke again.

“We need to plan a new you job for when we get back to New York.”

Lou stayed quiet, so Debbie continued. “We’re seriously running out of money.”

“Deb, I don’t care.” Lou finally said, while sliding up to put herself in a sitting position.

Debbie furrowed her brows and leaned against the wall next to Lou. “What do you mean you don’t care?”

“I mean, I don’t care about the money, I don’t care about the job. Why’s there always need to be another job? Can’t we just enjoy what we have?” Lou never thought she would think something like that, let alone say it aloud. But, that was the truth, simple as that. She was ready to give everything up, the money, the prospect of luxury, the adrenaline that came with the risk. 

The only thing she wanted was to _be_ with Debbie, even if that meant living in a car going from one city to another. She just didn’t care. 

Lou wanted to spend the rest of her days traveling across the globe and living new experiences, and getting lost, and getting drunk, and being loved, all in the presence of _her_. 

The jobs just weren’t her thing anymore. Throughout the past year she had started having an increasing sense of dread, a feeling that if they kept living their lives on the edge of the law, one day it would inevitably backfire. And she didn’t want to lose her.

Debbie chuckled and flicked her wrist against Lou’s shoulder. “You’re not being serious.”

“Of course I am,” Lou’s replied, earnest.

Debbie’s demeanor changed drastically, her look fixed on Lou, forcing eye contact.

“Lou, that’s the only thing I can do. It’s the only thing I’ve known since I was a kid, I can’t just throw it away.” She paused briefly, just enough to let her words sink in before continuing. “And how would we live, anyway?”

“We could get regular jobs, you know, like regular people.”

Debbie could clearly see the hints of hope forming in Lou’s eyes and it broke her heart knowing she ‘d be the one wiping that away.

“You know that’s never gonna happen,” Debbie stated simply.

Lou stayed silent once again, while Debbie scooted down the mattress. She covered herself and Lou with the bed sheet and then faced the blonde that was now lying down next to her.

“We’re partners, right?” Debbie asked, seeking assurance.

Lou closed the already small distance between them and took Debbie’s hand, kissing it tenderly. “Always, Deb.”

***

NEW YORK, 2018

The sun was already setting, and Debbie hadn’t yet returned.

It’s not that Lou had been waiting for her to come back since she had left the house that morning, because she wasn’t. But she had found herself absently checking the time every passing hour. She wasn’t really conscious of doing so — it was more of a reflex played by her mind, causing her arm to bent at the elbow and her eyes to look down at the watch fastened to her wrist. 

She wasn’t really tracking how much time had passed, but if she had been it would be seven hours and almost thirty minutes since Debbie had left. 

It was an endless loop. Lou would keep working at her computer, or reading a book and her gaze would fall inevitably to her watch. Yet again, she wasn’t processing the meaning behind the sudden feeling of coldness and utter disappointment spreading through her bones whenever she noticed the little clock hands had moved forward on the following number, or the increasing sickness she felt in her stomach. It was a perpetual state of distress that Lou didn’t want to process, because the knowledge was already implicitly stored in her memory. 

The knowledge that this felt more like nauseating dejavu.

It was typical of Debbie to disappear for a while and come back after hours, after having spent some time on her own. It was her way of dealing with the chaos in her life, disconnecting from reality and isolating herself from the rest of the world. She always needed that, her alone time, and Lou had been the only one who understood. She accepted it, and she respected it. 

But the more time passed, the more the need of being alone increased, Lou noticed — until the very last time, when Debbie had exited the loft and never came back. Last time, Lou hadn’t seen her in seven years. 

And of course she wasn’t processing all of this now, the prospect that it might’ve all happened again, the sickening realization that this might be the fate Lou was forever bound to — having her, only to watch her walk away all over again. Like a prophecy, a curse in disguise that fell on her the moment she laid eyes on Debbie.

Lou was now nervously fidgeting with her rings, picking at her skin around her nails. The thoughts were now flooding her mind, not being able to block them out anymore, and she’d always marveled at how cruel the human mind could be, working against your own will, creating images, and feelings, and letting memories appear in the worst possible moment, right when you needed them to stay out of your brain. 

She couldn’t shake off the feeling that, deep down, Lou knew that she had made the biggest make that night, allowing herself to be with Debbie again, to touch her, worship her — to love her again. Because regardless of where Debbie was now, or why she had left earlier that morning in the first place; regardless of how prison had changed her and shaped her into a new version of her former self; no matter how much she loved her, Lou _knew_ that it will always be part of who she is, the fleeing, the fear, the inability to let herself love and be loved completely. 

That’s what had brought them together in the first place, their incredible similarity, something they had never encountered before in someone else — and it made them perfect together, it allowed them to know every shade and every crease of each other’s soul, it allowed them to be, for each other, everything that nobody else ever could. 

But something changed in Lou all those years into their relationship. She started feeling like she could never imagine her life without Debbie by her side ever again.

The sun was already setting, and Debbie hadn’t returned yet. 

Lou rose from the couch she had been sitting on for a very long time, feigning interest in the book she was trying to read. The room was growing more and more claustrophobic over time, the irritating sound of the air conditioner making her nervous, the artificial light that pointed directly on her head too harsh for her liking. She needed space and she needed fresh air.

So she walked to the beach outside of her loft and sat down in the cold sand, relishing the soothing sound of the waves crashing forcefully against the shore. She lit a cigarette and waited for the sun to disappear completely.

***

When Debbie finally entered the loft, she found it empty, illuminated by one dim light in the corner of the living area. She called Lou’s name, only to be met by silence in return. She walked into every room, every area, checked the terrace and the fire escape, and Lou was nowhere to be found — until something clicked in her head.

Debbie walked out onto the sand, her hair blowing in the breeze, disturbing her vision slightly. Then she spotted her, even from a distance she could recognize her outfits, her posture, everything that was just so unmistakably _Lou_.

Debbie approached Lou, just like Lou had approached her, in that same spot a few weeks ago, when they had that argument about Claude, before the heist.

“Hey,” Debbie said while tightening the cardigan around her.

 

Lou did not respond, she simply nodded her head in acknowledgement.

Debbie looked down at her, brushing her hair away from her face. “Can I sit here?” 

“Sure.” Lou answered, never really facing her.

Her heart was now erratically pounding against her ribcage, as if wanting to escape its confines. She had to focus intensely on the sound of the water, on the cold of the blowing wind to keep her breathing under control. 

Lou didn’t want to look at her, not now that all of the past emotions and fears were threatening to resurface, nevertheless she tried to confront her.

“You left,” she spoke, just above a whisper. _This is just like last time._

 

Debbie didn’t know what she was referring to. Did she mean just now, or did she mean all those years ago? 

It felt like an eternity before Debbie replied. “Yeah. But I came back, didn’t I?”

Lou finally turned her head to look her in the eyes. “I don’t think you know what you want, Deb. I don’t think you ever did, and I just can’t _always_ be the one who waits around for you to make a goddamn decision. To make a step forward,” she said, then got up on her feet, feeling the need to put some distance between them.

“What are you saying?” Debbie asked, rising as well. Lou had her hands tucked inside the back pockets of her pants, facing away from Debbie, then she turned her head towards her slightly, eyes downcast, enough to be able to see her figure but not enough to see her face. 

“What do you wanna do, Deb?”   
Debbie sighed. She had no idea what she wanted to do next. Of course she wanted to be with Lou, always had and always will, but was it wise to do so? All the reasons that make her run away in the opposite direction are still there, and Lou — she was so scared to let her down yet again, to hurt her, possibly even more than she already had. She couldn’t lie, she _wouldn’t_ lie to Lou, even if that meant pushing her away for good. “I don’t know.” 

Lou let out a long deep sigh, and she gulped trying to swallow down the clog of emotions. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” She shook her head lightly and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, her head tilted back as if she expected the strength to pour down on her from the sky. 

She now looked at Debbie, pleading, asking for forgiveness through her eyes. “I’m done.” 

With that she walked away. Physically, emotionally. From Debbie and from possibly anything else in the world.


	10. The calm before the storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think. Loving your comments, they really keep me inspired:)

**October 11th, New York**

The sun was glaring through the clear sky, cascading down the profiles of the tall buildings, tracing their lines with its golden light. The mild, fresh autumn breeze and the smell of smoked meat were the only things keeping Lou company on her way back to the loft — along with the deep beat of the music playing in her ears, interrupted now and then by some casual honking from exasperated drivers.

The day that would inescapably change her life for years to come, was ironically a perfect day. The storm that swept away the light was, sadly, an unexpected catastrophe falling down upon her. 

When Lou entered the loft, she expected it to be dark and empty — instead she found that the light in her bedroom had been turned on, and the moving shadows she could see from where she stood confirmed that she wasn’t alone. 

She called Debbie’s name — once, twice — but was met with silence. Lou knew it was her by the unmistakable trail of perfume she left behind; it was rich and spicy, with traces of sweetness. It was utterly inebriating, the mere hint of her scent in the air was capable of making Lou tremble with joy and excitement.

Still standing in the doorway, a feeling of dread started creeping up Lou’s spine as the seconds passed. Everything felt wrong. Too dark, too quite. She now recognized Debbie’s travel bag laying on the floor against the couch, her coat strategically placed on top of it. Oh, Lou knew, deep down she knew, that her life was about to come crashing down, that everything was just so wrong, and this time felt finally like an inevitable end. 

She wanted to call Debbie’s name again, she wanted to move, and see, and understand, but her mind was working in a different speed than her body. So she stood there, waiting for the storm to swallow her. She could only watch as Debbie made her way out of the bedroom with one single suitcase in hand, collecting her other bag before walking towards the door. 

Lou finally met Debbie’s bloodshot eyes, tears still falling down her cheeks. She saw Debbie’s face twist in pain when she realized that she wasn’t alone. She took a few steps forward, but Lou instinctively backed away, keeping the distance between their bodies. 

“Lou…” Debbie’s strangled voice broke through the deafening silence, making Lou visibly flinch.

She didn’t respond, the lump in her throat too tight to allow her to speak. Lou instead held her breath and closed her eyes, blocking out the image in front of her. There was nothing she could do other than reach her trembling hand to open the door and let Debbie go. 

Lou didn’t know how long she had been standing there. Minutes, maybe hours. It could have been an eternity for that matter, while her mind tried to make sense of what was happening.

Finally, Lou walked in the kitchen with confidence and opened a cabinet, searching for something specific. She grabbed the bottle of vodka, the one she kept around for special occasions, then made her way to the bathroom. 

She stripped down naked, her clothes too tight around her, too heavy, making her claustrophobic, and entered the shower. Lou didn’t even bother to regulate the temperature, the water burning her skin in an all too pleasant way. The tears she had been holding back all this time were now finally free to fall, marking her face with the weight of grief. Her body was shaking uncontrollably, her lungs ached, and her throat was on fire — nonetheless, it was a silent cry. 

 

 **New York — Present Day**

 

The sky was now almost completely tinged a nightly blue, only a thin line colored the horizon with flaming red. Debbie was still there on the beach, playing in her mind all of the events that eventually led to where she was in this moment. Every single excruciating detail was burnt into her memory for life — she supposed punishment for her actions.

Debbie never thought that Lou would put a definitive end to _them_ — although, she had also never thought she could have the strength to walk away from Lou in the first place. 

She thought about what Tammy had said earlier that day, about Lou hurting because of her, and Debbie _knew_ that she deserved to never see Lou again because of all the pain she had caused. But her brain continued to work wildly, and Debbie couldn’t stop the images of Lou by her side, from the time they were happy together, because they _were_ — tremendously, endlessly happy. 

She couldn’t stop the memories of her hands lost in her, everywhere. The images of Lou’s smile; the one that made those precious wrinkles around her eyes appear, the one that could light up the darkest of days. The feeling of pure love Debbie received whenever she would come home late to find Lou uncomfortably huddled up on the small couch, waiting for Debbie to return because she simply couldn’t sleep without her by her side. 

Before she knew it, Debbie found herself striding back to the loft. She walked up the stairs of the old building with a little voice in her head telling her to turn around and get out of there — get out of Lou’s life for good, like Tammy had said, because she still didn’t know how to figure it all out. 

Debbie was still so damn afraid and she’d do anything just to make sure that Lou never suffered ever again. Still, her mind was pulling her in the opposite direction but her body was uncontrollably drawn to her. 

She knocked on the door, probably with too much strength than necessary, her heart pounding so fast that it made her nauseous. Debbie felt dizzy as the seconds went by and the door had yet to be opened. She tried knocking once again, and this time she noticed the shadow of Lou’s body behind the door. She could hear her breathing. 

“Please, Lou… Open up.” Her voice was soft, but firm. 

A few more seconds passed by before the door finally swung open.

“Deb, I don’t wanna do this,” Lou said while walking away from the door, her back facing the other woman. 

Debbie noticed Lou had changed in more comfortable clothes, her favorite black leather pants were replaced by some loosely tied grey shorts; a long, off-the-shoulder sweater in place of her red velvet suit jacket. She wasn’t wearing shoes, her bare feet resting uncovered on the cold wooden floor, making her look so much smaller without her signature boots on. Her face was bare, all traces of makeup meticulously washed off, leaving her more exposed than ever. Debbie couldn’t remember the last time she had a chance to see her looking so unmasked, so real. 

“Let me explain.” Debbie was still standing on the doorway, nervously fidgeting with her hands.

Lou leaned against the wall, her head slightly tilted back, supported by the hard surface behind her. She had her eyes closed and her voice came out sounding particularly tight. 

“Go ahead.”

Debbie took that as her cue to finally step into the loft. 

“You’re right. I don’t know shit about what I want, I never have — and since I got out of jail, it’s like I don’t even know who I _am_ anymore.” She ran her hands through her long hair, taking a deep breath to steady herself.“I don’t want to… I _can’t_ lose you, Lou. And I know you want this to be over — You have every right to, and if that’s what you want, I promise I’ll disappear and you’ll never have to see me again. But not before we had a chance to talk.” 

Unfiltered honesty, that’s what Debbie wanted to practice from now on.

Lou shrugged, averting her eyes. “There’s really nothing to say, Deb.”

“Stop doing this,” Debbie pleaded, taking a step forward in Lou’s direction. 

Lou tilted her head to one side, her mouth twisting when she sucked the inside of her cheek, the way she always did when she was annoyed. “What?”

“That.” Debbie gestured towards her, up and down, making it obvious she was talking about the blonde’s attitude. “Stop shutting me out and pretending like nothing’s wrong.”

Lou scoffed. “What am I supposed to do?”

“Talk to me,” Debbie said, crossing her arms. 

Lou’s expression changed drastically, as if some sort of bitter realization had struck her suddenly. When she spoke again, her voice came out gravelly, her expression contorted into a deep frown. All pretense of putting up a façade, all the fortified walls she had put around her since Debbie entered the loft, came crashing down.

“Is that why you left? Because I wouldn’t talk, I wouldn’t open up?” This time, Lou’s words came out forcefully, bitter. As if they tasted like acid in her mouth.

Once again, Debbie was clueless as to whether Lou was referring to earlier that day, or when she left years ago. 

“No, that’s not…Lou, what I did was wrong and I know how you must feel…” She trailed off when saw how, once again, the look on Lou’s face had changed completely. It was like witnessing a live exposition of human emotions. 

Lou started pacing up and down the room, looking like she was frantically collecting her thoughts, trying to keep it together. Her hand covered her mouth, but Debbie could still see her eyes, wild and unblinking.

Debbie was at a loss for words, so she instead slowly lowered herself on the nearest chair of the big round table and waited for Lou. 

When Lou finally looked up, Debbie couldn’t help the sharp intake of breath at the sight of her blue eyes, so scared and angry, and heartbroken. The swirl of emotions deepening the lines around the mouth, the small creases between her brows and under her eyes that were now hollowing her features did nothing to prevent her from looking so much younger and vulnerable. 

“You wanted to talk? Let’s talk then,” Lou said, desperately trying to stiffen her demeanor. 

“You want to know how, since you _left,_ I spend most of my days trying to find new ways to numb the pain? You wanna know how I get up every single morning hoping I won’t think about you, hoping I won’t feel anything at all — to erase the memory of you from my mind? Or that, when I woke up at the hospital after my accident, I wished I hadn’t. That everything after that was just too much to handle, that I couldn’t eat because my _own_ body was working against me, and that I couldn’t sleep because you were always there, in my dreams, in my worst _nightmares._ I stay awake, constantly. I’m always awake. Always. I’m scared that if I fall asleep, I’ll see your damn face. And I can’t do it. I just can’t…”

Lou’s voiced cracked and she had to turn away from Debbie before she could continue.

“Can you imagine a pain so strong, so unbearable that it wouldn’t let me breathe? Everyday felt like a fucking burden, Debbie, like my life wasn’t mine to live anymore. You left a hole in me, an emptiness I can never even come close to filling again. Not now, not ever. Is that what you wanted to hear? What you did to me, what I did to myself?” 

A short silence stretched out between them, both of them letting Lou’s words linger in the air. When she spoke again, her voice was so much softer than before, her body having lost the energy to fight. 

“I don’t even blame you, not anymore. You wanted to leave, and you left. I couldn’t keep you. I couldn’t make you stay. How could I, when you were never mine to begin with?” She chuckled, a bittersweet smile appearing on her face.“The blame is on me, really. For letting myself love you like that.”

Oh, how bitter realizations can be, when they come like this. 

The ultimate understanding, the excruciating truth being revealed, as if Debbie had been wandering shrouded in fog for all these years and now the weight of oblivion had been lift off. 

And Lou was right. Tammy was right. Debbie didn’t want to know all of this, she didn’t want to carry the truth. It was the most agonizing thing she’d ever felt. Nothing, not half a decade of her life in jail, not even the death of her _brother_ could ever compare to this, to the painful knowledge that she was the cause of Lou’s destruction. 

Debbie knew in that instant she would lock herself up in prison for the rest of her days, she would endure hundreds of knives all over again if she could make things right and spare Lou all this hurt.

She started tasting a strong, metallic flavor in her mouth from the punishing pressure of her teeth on her lower lip. Her vision was starting to blur and her chest burned, and ached, and fucking _burned_ , and — why did she ask? Why did she always ask questions she didn’t want answers to?

Lou was now absently looking out of the big window, lost in her own confession. The overflowing words that escaped her mouth next weren’t meant to be heard, weren’t meant for anybody but herself.

“God, I wanted to marry you and spend the rest of my life with you. How stupid does that sound?” She mouthed them, like a shameful revelation that should have never broken free from the safe confinements of her own mind.

But the agonizing whimper Lou heard behind her let her know that her mind and body had once again betrayed her.

She turned around and looked up to finally see Debbie. Her figure looked so much smaller, hunched over and shaking like a leaf in the wind. Her eyes were shut but new waves of tears kept falling down her face, and she was covering her mouth with her hand, trying to hold back the sobs.

 _Fuck._

Lou took a few steps and closed the distance between them, resting Debbie’s head against her stomach and tenderly brushed her fingers through her hair, placing a soft kiss at the top of her head. “I’m so sorry, Deb. I shouldn’t have...I’m sorry.”

Debbie gripped Lou’s sweater even tighter as she let her devastating sobs out. They stayed like that for a long time before Lou’s voice broke the silence one last time.

“I wished everyday that you would find what you couldn’t have with me.”


	11. Dorian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is quite different from the others as it's mainly experienced from Debbie's perspective, finally! We delve a little bit more into the reasons and dynamics that eventually led to their current situation, and further aspects of the characters are being revealed. Also, there's more of Tammy in this one, cause I really love her and I just can't get enough of her. I hope it'll live up to your expectations, let me know what you think.  
> Ps. I am so loving all of your beautiful comments. Really, thank you!

_I wished everyday that you would find what you couldn’t have with me._

The words resonated in Debbie like a ringing bell, a mocking sound playing incessantly in her brain. She felt transfixed and utterly lost, as if completely detached from reality. Her body was still physically there, in Lou’s apartment wrapped around her arms, but her mind had seemingly given up on her, ceasing to function. _Refusing_ to function. And she kept reciting the same words over and over again, like a splinter in her brain, driving her insane, analyzing every single choice of words, the inflection in her voice, every nuance of the softly-spoken confession, so many times that it had started to sound foreign in her ears.

And just like an uncontrollable reflex, Debbie got up abruptly, needing so badly to distance herself from her — from everything. She walked across the living room to collect her things, the clicking sound of her heels on the hardwood floor felt too loud, simply unbearable, as if signalizing the approaching moment were she would run away yet again.

Debbie’sentire body was vibrating, tight like the strings of a violin, too tight and threatening to break. She needed space, she needed air and this was not the place because she was watching her. Lou was watching her and she could see it in her eyes, the agonizing awareness that Lou had already seen all of this and was just waiting for it to inevitably happen all over again. 

It’s her instinct to flee — it’s how Debbie was born, how she’d been taught to live her life. _Don’t get too attached_ , they’d say, _It’s part of your job to never get too invested._

It’s who they are; it’s always been like this. But the truth is, Debbie was already too in deep and _fuck_ , how tired she was of running away.

Her movements came to a halt. Debbie froze as the power of such revelation struck her like a lighting bolt. She stood there, in the middle of the living room staring at the vastness of the city through the window. Her actions, her choices, all of the words she had spoken and those that had been yet to be voiced unfolding before her eyes in rapid sequences. Debbie’s heart was pounding erratically in her chest at the prospect of it, at the meaning behind her sudden epiphany. She felt scared, but in a good way — like when she was anxiously standing in line for a roller coaster. It felt utterly and unexpectedly exhilarating. 

Debbie let her bag drop onto the couch she was standing next to and turned around to see Lou absently washing the dishes — and it fucking broke her heart knowing she was just waiting for the inevitable outcome, knowing she had grown so familiar with her leaving that it barely made a difference. It tore her apart. She broke Lou, she hurt her in so many ways, when all she ever wanted was to protect her, keep her safe and forever shielded. 

Debbie started to walk towards her, her hand firmly pressed against her own chest, feeling like it might explode at any moment.

“Lou.” 

Her voice just above a whisper and Debbie would’ve thought that Lou didn’t hear her if it hadn’t been for the subtle, barely-there flinch of her shoulders. So she took a few more steps and finally reached her, placing a hand on her arm to get her attention. But Lou didn’t stop, never faltering as she kept meticulously washing those same dishes over again, completely lost in her task. 

“Lou,” she tried again, and this time her movements came to a stop. “I’m sorry.”

Debbie finally said them, the words she had owned Lou for a long time — and she knew they didn’t even come close to what Lou truly _deserved_ , but it was a start. And somewhere between the passionate night they shared and the moment of Debbie’s revelation, she had already vowed to spend the rest of her life making it up to Lou. 

But the way she shrugged absentmindedly, never taking her eyes off those damn dishes and her muffled _don’t worry about it_ made Debbie realize that, once again, she had done it all wrong, because Lou was most certainly thinking she must had apologized for wanting to leave, again. 

“No, Lou. Look at me,” Debbie said softly, placing one hand on Lou’s jaw and prompting Lou to face her. The next words came out like a flaming plea, imbued with fear and unquestioned honesty. “I’m done running. I’m done leaving. You asked me what I wanted, before at the beach, and the answer is _you._ I just want you.” 

Lou closed her blue eyes at the confession, her face twisted in a grimace. Debbie could see bitterness and profound distrust written all over her face. She already knew Lou wouldn’t believe her, she knew she didn’t trust her, how could she? When all she had ever done was push her away? But Debbie asked — she asked anyway. 

“Do you trust me?”

Lou was getting increasingly nervous. She didn’t like the turn this conversation was taking. “I trust you with my life, you know that,” she trailed off, taking a deep breath and shaking her head lightly before stiffening her demeanor, hardening her features. “But I don’t trust you with my heart, if that’s what you’re asking,” Lou said, finally turning around to face Debbie and leaning against the countertop. 

Debbie mirrored her action, leaning against the kitchen cabinet on the opposite side. She tried to shake the hurt off her, to wipe it away from her expression because this time, it wasn’t about her, nor her feelings. It was about _Lou_. 

“Yeah, that’s fair.” 

That’s how Debbie answered, simple as that, and she wanted to kick her own ass for her inadequacy, for not being able to use her words like she should be and say what was necessary to start making things better. 

A long silence stretched between them, both women lost in their own thoughts, about what had been said and what was going to happen. They were both as far away from their surroundings — from reality — as they could possibly get. 

When Debbie spoke again, her own words felt strange and unfamiliar to her, as if they had unconsciously come out from the back of her mind, “I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, too.”

Lou looked up abruptly, her eyes visibly darkened.“Oh for god sakes, Deborah. Just don’t,”she spat her remark, her face was hardened by distaste for Debbie’s confession. But her voice faltered and broke nevertheless. “We both know that’s not true. You’ve always been half in and half out of… whatever it is that we were.”

Debbie raised her head to meet Lou’s intense gaze. She needed to carefully choose what she was going to say if she wanted even a small chance at fixing their shattered relationship, because what Debbie had learned by now was that words were so fucking crucial.

“Yes, that’s true. But it doesn’t mean I didn’t want – I didn’t _crave_ a future with you. It’s just that I didn’t see how we could have that.” 

A single silent tear fell down Lou’s face and Debbie just couldn’t stand there anymore. She took a few steps, closing the distance between their bodies, and held Lou’s hand while the other firmly cupped her cheek, and Debbie’s fingers gripped at her hair, holding her gaze. It was a pleading gesture, signifying that she was ready to relinquish, to give up the control and the barriers. She was ready to let Lou watch as her walls came crashing down, as she gave herself willingly.

“Lou…” The name on Debbie lips appeared like a solemn prayer, like words uttered in the safety of a Church meant for the Divine only. “I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you. That’s my only certainty. My life had never been more complete than when I was with you. _Only you._ I thought it was the jobs that I couldn’t live without because it was the only thing I had ever known, and the idea of putting that aside felt like — like leaving a whole part of me behind.” Her voice cracked in a trembling sound. 

Debbie struggled to keep her composure. “But I was wrong, so fucking wrong, because I think I’ve been dying everyday, one little piece at a time since I left you, and _god_ I didn’t even realize that.” She felt her jaw tightening with the strength of emotions, a clog in her throat that wouldn’t let her breath, let alone speak. Debbie took a long shuddering breath, goosebumps crawling down her spine from her reminiscence. “When I was in jail, the only thing that kept me going was thinking about you. It was you who kept me alive, your face and the sound of your voice in my head. Always you.”

She could see Lou’s eyes frantically studying Debbie’s face, taking in her revelation. But all of that selfless love staring back at her was tinged with doubt and fear — and most importantly, pain. 

“So you left me. For the jobs,” Lou spoke, in a gravelly voice, distancing herself from Debbie’s body.

Debbie stammered. “No… Well, yes. I — Lou, it’s not what you think. It’s more complicated than that.”

“It’s always so fucking _complicated_ , isn’t it?” 

Debbie’s expression turned solemn, her voice emitting a flat and unwavering sound. “You didn’t want the jobs anymore,” she simply stated, matter-of-fact. 

Lou froze, her eyes wide and a deep frown on her face. As if she had been caught. As if something she had so actively tried to conceal had been revealed. 

It was Debbie who broke the silence once again. “Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think I didn’t notice how much it pained you every time we were having a conversation about a new heist, or whenever we were out there for a job?” Debbie could see that her words had hit Lou like a bullet in her chest, but she couldn’t stop. Not now, when she was finally ready to let it all out.

“And I didn’t want to stop, Lou. I didn’t want to give it all up and that’s on me. Believe me, I’ll regret that decision for the rest of my life. But I knew that you wouldn’t have stopped, you would have kept going on and on and on. I know that. You were ready to give up _everything_. I saw you risking your own life for me and I just… couldn’t let you do it.”

Lou was leaning against the wall, covering her mouth and her eyes tightly shut as she let herself slide down to the floor. The meaning behind those words were too heavy to keep her upright.

And Debbie didn’t know if she still had the strength to continue, but she did anyway. It was now or never and she knew this explanation was long overdue. 

“It took me getting framed and my ass getting thrown in the slammer for almost six fucking years to realize that it was _you_ who made those jobs even worth pulling off. You with your wit and intelligence, your fun. You with all of your extravagance and vibrant personality, and your love for me. It took me getting stabbed, Lou — almost bleeding to death — to make me realize that _nothing_ would ever come close to making me feel the way you do, and that I’m ready now to risk it all for you.” 

Debbie sighed in relief, the confession she finally managed to voice felt incredibly cathartic; she never felt lighter. And she knew she was done talking for now, she knew she had to give Lou all the time she needed to digest all of it — to hopefully forgive her.

Long minutes passed by in silence before Debbie called her name. But Lou put out a strong hand in front of her, before she spoke. “I need you to leave now.” Her words sounded bitter to her own ears, so this time she looked up to face Debbie and softly spoke again. “Please.”

Debbie nodded her understanding. She knew that it must not be easy for Lou and Debbie was well aware that a bunch of words couldn’t be nearly enough to fix this ugly situation — but she also knew she was undoubtedly ready to give her all of the time and space she needed. She would be waiting for her for as long as it would take. After spending years in jail, time and space were two dimensions that didn’t hold any value to Debbie, not anymore.

“I’ll leave you now, Lou. But I’m not going anywhere.” Collecting her things, Debbie let the words sink in before finally exiting the loft.

***

It had been a week since Tammy had seen Lou — days since she heard from her, and this morning she had missed the monthly meeting with the girls. She had been trying to call her ever since, but after several failed attempts at getting in touch with her friend, Tammy decided it’d be better if she just checked on her. 

When she arrived at the loft, she knocked a few times and waited, but when it didn’t prompt any response, she took out her spare key, the one Lou had given her years ago after the accident, and opened the door. She knew she shouldn’t have. It was major overstepping, entering somebody’s home without being invited in, but Tammy couldn’t shake off the deep feeling of uneasiness she had.

She was immediately met by dead silence, and her nose was flooded by the harsh scent of distilled spirits. Tammy fumbled in the dark living area, trying not to knock something over and tried calling her name. 

When she finally got to Lou’s bedroom, she noticed the dim light of the bedside lamp coming through the cracks of the slightly opened door, and the increasing smell of booze becoming ever stronger and nauseating. 

The moment Tammy pushed the door open, she saw Lou. There she was, collapsed on the ground, her back resting against the side of the bed and her head tilted backwards on the edge of the mattress. One bottle of vodka was lying on the floor without its cap securely fastened, slowly spilling what was left of its content all over the floor. 

“Shit,” Tammy mouthed as she knelt down in front of her friend’s unmoving figure. She brushed her hand on Lou’s forehead and checked her breathing and pulse. 

At the touch of Tammy’s fingers, Lou’s eyes fluttered open and she instinctively brought her palm up to her head, pressing on the spot near her temple where a throbbing headache was starting to spread.

“Hey, honey… Can you get up?” Tammy asked softly.

Lou shook her head slightly, letting Tammy know she couldn’t move from her sitting position. She couldn’t see straight, her head felt heavy and spinning wildly, her vision blurred by the significant amount of alcohol she had ingested — Tammy could see it in the way Lou’s eyes looked utterly unfocused. 

Tammy gently stroked Lou’s cheek, just like a mother would do when taking care of a feverish child — lovingly, concerned. 

“Okay, okay. I’m gonna pull you up, but you gotta do your part. Can you do that for me?” 

Lou nodded and mouthed a weak _yeah_.

Tammy closed the small distance between them by putting her arm under Lou’s armpit and around her back while she pressed the other hand on the near wall, ready to support their weight. “You remember how we do it? On three, okay? 1…2…3”

Lou’s body hunched over and fell almost completely against Tammy. They slowly walked to the bathroom, careful not to trip over the big carpet. Once inside, Tammy cautiously lowered Lou back to the floor and proceeded to tie her hair up in a disheveled ponytail. 

“I’ll be right back, just quickly grabbing a towel, okay?” Tammy said while going through Lou’s things and moving around her bathroom with acquired ease.

A few seconds later, she heard a groan and a series of short shallow breaths coming from behind her back. Lou was bracing the toilet bowl, her stomach visibly contracting almost in sync with the sharp intakes of air. The nausea that had probably been clawing at her throat for all this time had finally prevailed and the content of her stomach violently spewed out of her coughing mouth. Lou’s face was white, dripping sweat and tears, her bangs sticking to her forehead.

Tammy lunged forward, sinking to her knees to brush Lou’s hair out of the way. “Here you go, let it all out.”

She gently stroked Lou’s back in circular motions, trying to lessen up the the tension in her muscles that Tammy could feel stiffening under her palms.

“It’s gonna be okay, honey. We’ll work this out.”

Lou groaned and moved away from the toilet. She brought her hand up to dry her eyes and the sweat that was still forming on her hairline, consequently revealing a rather long cut and dried blood on her right wrist. 

Tammy’s eyes grew wide in shock, oxygen being momentarily drained out of her system. It took her a couple of seconds before she could start forming a sentence. “Lou…”

 

“No,” Lou said firmly, shaking her head. “I broke a glass.” Her voice hoarse and thick, scraping her already sore throat, making it impossible to speak.  
Tammy kept her gaze firmly fixated on the the woman, scrutinizing her expression, waiting for the smallest of changes in her eyes, in her breathing, looking for any sign she might be acting deceivingly. 

Lou knew she had to speak again and make sure Tammy understood. She sighed and steeled herself to keep her voice unwavering, her eyes focusing for a moment, long enough to utter her next words with resolution. 

“Tam, it’s not what you think.” Lou said, forcing herself to meet her gaze. “I broke a glass. Sounds lame, but I just — broke a fucking glass.” She made sure she stressed every single word that came out of her mouth. She needed Tammy to understand. 

Tammy nodded. “Okay.” 

After a few minutes of silence, Tammy finally got up and turned on the shower. She helped Lou out of her dirty clothes and carefully guided her under the cold streaming water. She waited for her outside of the shower — just in case — ready to hand Lou the big soft towel once she was finished. She helped her get dressed in her pajamas, and insisted on medicating the cut on her wrist despite Lou’s persistent protests. 

Then she gently tucked her into bed and placed a big glass of water on her nightstand, as well as some crackers — because she knew Lou would wake up starving in the middle of the night — and the bottle of aspirin she found in the same old cabinet where Lou stored all of her meds.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Tammy asked softly while sitting on the chair next to the bed where Lou was now comfortably resting. 

Lou shook her head, grimacing at the sting she felt behind her eyelids caused by the sudden movement. “Not really, no.” 

Tammy gave her a disapproving look, one Lou remembered very well from the other times they found themselves in this exact same situation.

She rolled her eyes dramatically, her head a lot clearer after the extra alcohol had been expelled and the cold shower she took. Her voice still sounded incredibly rough. 

“Oh, c’mon. It’s just vodka, Tammy. Look at the bright side: it could have been worse. At least this time I’m not getting my stomach pumped,” Lou chuckled.

Tammy’s brows furrowed, a solemn expression appearing on her face, shaping her features. 

”S’not funny Lou,” she spoke softly, nonetheless Tammy kept her demeanor stiff and controlled, and so very serious. She never averted her gaze.

Lou scoffed.“Well, that doesn’t make it untrue.” 

Tammy didn’t respond, letting a long dead silence stretch between the two of them. After a while, she tilted her head slightly to one side, studying the tired woman in front of her, then reached her hand and brushed Lou’s bangs away from her eyes. 

“Why do you keep doing this to yourself?” Tammy finally said, trying to contain the quiver in her voice, which did nothing to mask the depth of her concern. 

Lou’s eyes fluttered open and she answered through gritted teeth, her speech slurring under the force of exhaustion. “Hurts more at night.”

Tammy sighed and closed her eyes, her chest aching from her friend’s painful revelation. 

“Okay, honey. Just rest. I’ll be back in the morning.” 

Lou mumbled her acknowledgement before finally drifting off.

***

**JUNE THE 6TH, 2005**

They had a pleasant dinner together, at their place. They had ordered take out and Debbie had insisted on making the desert from scratch. They were now leisurely spending some time in each other’s presence; Lou was reading one of her favorite novels while Debbie feigned interest in some low-quality magazine. 

Debbie was observing her from behind the covers of her paper, taking in the ravishing beauty of the woman she loved. Lou kept looking younger and incredibly sexier as the years went by. 

God, she _needed_ her. Such an uncontrollable want, the kind she couldn’t simply deny or refrain from. So Debbie got up from the chair and walked around the table, facing Lou. She reached her hand and threaded her fingers through her blonde hair, gently at first, then lightly tugging her head back. Her other hand slowly traveled up her slender neck, cupping her jaw tenderly and tracing her lower lip with her thumb. 

Lou’s eyes were mesmerized, deeply fixated on Debbie’s expression and fully captivated by the attention she was receiving. Lust started to build, they could feel it in the air — it was almost tangible, the incredible need they had for each other. 

Lou’s hand reached around and slid up Debbie’s leg, finding its way to her lower back and pulling her closer, bringing her stomach near her open mouth. She stuck her tongue out and sensually licked that uncovered spot just above Debbie’s pelvic bone. She wanted so much more already.

Debbie’s hand dipped under Lou’s shirt and found her breast. She squeezed lightly eliciting a small moan from the other woman. Lou’s body seemed to be already vibrating with anticipation and when Debbie took her nipple between her thumb and forefinger and pinched, hard, she couldn’t help the whimper of pleasure escaping her mouth at the sudden feeling of delightful pain. A paradox of her hedonistic personality.

“Deb,” she whispered, her voice low and hoarse. The need to kiss her and feel Debbie’stongue in her mouth was getting increasingly high, so Lou got up from her chair, finally at Debbie’s eye level and found her lips, sucking and biting as if she had been waiting for that moment for ages. 

But Debbie was quick in her movements, placing both of her hands under Lou’s ass to hoist her up and forcefully lay her down on the table. She slowly opened the buttons of Lou’s shirt never taking her eyes off the blonde’s blue pair, gazing intensely at her. Usually, it would be Lou taking the lead, and she _loved_ taking control, but this Debbie, staring at her so passionately and hungry and possessively, it was intoxicating. It made Lou want to offer Debbie her whole body and soul, unconditionally. 

Debbie took Lou’s chin in her hand and pulled her close, burying her tongue in her mouth, and took her bottom lip between her teeth while her other hand slid down to unzip her pants. Lou’s breath got caught in her throat as she felt a familiar pressure between her wet folds, her legs instinctively falling open, giving better access to Debbie’s moving fingers. 

Her hands were fumbling to pull her pants off, needing to free herself completely from the useless garment, but her movements were stopped abruptly by Debbie’s firm grip on her wrist, whisking it away and causing Lou to groan in frustration, her deep sound reverberating through the thin walls of their living room. 

Her hands were then replaced by Debbie’s who, with expertise, swiftly pulled her pants down along with her already soaked panties, sliding them over her incredibly high, black leather boots. 

Never taking them off. 

Lou scooted further down on the table and could feel Debbie’s soft chuckle as she left a trail of her slick wetness on the hard wooden surface. 

“God, you’re _so_ ready baby, aren’t you?” Debbie said in her low, husky voice, leaning closer to her. 

Lou simply hummed her response, her mind too clouded in lust and anticipation to formulate coherent words. Their mouths met again for a voracious kiss, while one of Debbie’s hands guided her body to lay flat on the table. She took both of Lou’s arms and placed them up above her head, pinning her wrists.

Her fingers traced feather-light along the soft skin between Lou’s breasts, taking a moment to place her palm against her chest and feel her beating heart before she placed both hands on her knees, parting her legs wide open. She gently placed Lou’s feet on the table, leaving her completely exposed. Debbie took a step back to admire the body perfectly laid out for her. That blonde hair framing her face, blue eyes now darkened by desire, her flush full lips pouting in a too sinful way. Stripped down from all of her clothes except for those irresistible boots. All opened and exposed for Debbie to appreciate. 

She was such a delightful sight for her eyes, and in that moment Debbie wondered what she could have possibly done right to get this lucky. 

Finally, Debbie’s fingers found her slick entrance, spreading it up and down tremendously slow, careful to avoid any contact with her throbbing clit — making Lou whimper. She marveled at how Lou could so easily keep her composure and never lose her grip on self-control. _Almost never._

“I woke up today wanting to hear you beg for release,” Debbie whispered, in her low teasing voice, while her finger kept stroking her swollen folds, just above her entrance. 

Lou simply scoffed and Debbie’s movements stopped for a few seconds while she locked eyes with the blonde, only to sink two of her fingers in her without any prior notice. She set a steady pace, thrusting her fingers a few times before pulling them out completely, leaving Lou in intense need. Her hips jerked forward instinctively seeking the lost connection. Her groan loud and rough. 

Debbie sunk down to her knees, the gesture one of deep devotion, eye level with Lou’s center. She put a hand on her stomach, slowly sliding it down until she was fully cupping her, while Lou’s hips kept undulating incessantly against her hand. 

“Tell me what you want.”

“Your mouth. On me.” Lou said huskily.

Debbie grinned mischievously before she parted her lips and lost her tongue in her wet folds. Lou cried out at the sensation, making her head jerk suddenly, causing it to fall back on the table with a loud thump. 

“God, Debbie. More.” Her hand found anchoring in Debbie’s head, gripping her hair tightly, keeping her close to her, _so_ close. 

Once again, Debbie pulled away from her, leaving Lou a craving mess. She got up from her kneeling position and slowly walked around the table. She took the hand that Lou let fall with greed in her hair, and she kissed it tenderly before putting it back in its prior position, above her head. She was standing next to her, her body aligned with Lou’s midsection and she was simply relishing the way she kept pleading with her blue eyes, not able to let the words out just yet. 

“You want to come, is that right babe?” Debbie said, tracing her finger up and down Lou’s inner thigh, so dangerously close to where she wanted it the most. Lou nodded and Debbie’s head mirrored her movement almost mockingly. 

Taking a deep breath, Lou made sure to hold Debbie’s gaze. Her voice dropped an octave and her hypnotic icy eyes were incredibely piercing, as if teasing Debbie with her own imploration. “Please, let me come.” 

Debbie was sure she felt a jolt of electricity down her spine and right to her core at the roughness of Lou’s desperate plea. 

In a matter of seconds she had circled back to her previous position between Lou’s opened legs, she grabbed her hips, forcefully dragging her farther down the edge of the table before swiftly flipping her over onto her stomach.

Lou found herself bent over, hands on both sides of her head, her face and hair a portrait of a beautiful mess. Debbie shoved her hand again between Lou’s legs, entering her from behind, eliciting the deepest of moans from the blonde woman writhing before her eyes. She loved her like this, at her mercy, completely exposed and relinquishing control. Her hand kept moving fast, building up speed and power, while the other raked across Lou’s soft skin, not too rough but enough to surely leave her mark. 

Lou’s hands found something to hold on to. Gripping the edge of the table, her knuckles turned white from the intensity of the sensation she was experiencing.

Debbie knew Lou was exploding but she also knew that she wasn’t able to come without stimulating her clit. So she retracted her hand and with such gracefulness and ease she swiftly lowered herself onto the chair, bringing Lou’s body with her so that her back was resting against Debbie’s chest. 

She parted her legs wider, and three fingers sunk back into Lou’s entrance while her thumb was firmly pressed on her clit. Her other hand grabbed her breast and pinched her hardened nipple as she dug her teeth against that spot where her shoulder meets her neck. 

Lou was past the point of no return. Her legs lost in involuntary spasms and her vision fading completely, she arched her back, letting her head fall onto Debbie’s shoulder as she moaned against her ear. With a final flick of her thumb on her clit, Lou finally let go, riding the intense waves of pleasure rippling through her body. 

She let her orgasm subside then reached her arm up to cup Debbie’s cheek, still incredibly breathless, and kissed her mouth in adoration.

 

After another round of pure lovemaking,they were finally lying in bed facing each other.

There was only a small amount of space between them — not close enough for their mouths to touch, but close enough to share their breaths. Debbie swiped a lock of blonde hair away from Lou’s blissful faceand stroked her cheek tenderly, planting a soft chaste kiss on her swollen lips. 

“Happy birthday.”

Lou’s eyes were closed in contentment but a wide smile appeared on her face. “Well, if that’s what I get, I wish it was my birthday every single day.” She said, emphasizing her last three words, each with a kiss on Debbie’s forehead. 

Debbie hummed lightly, grinning. She bit her lower lip, holding Lou’s intense gaze, losing herself for a moment in the depth of her sparkling grey eyes. She could easily spend a lifetime drowning in them. 

“C’mon,” She said as she slid into a sitting position, gesturing with her head towards the bedroom door.

“Uh? Where?” Lou asked, genuinely surprised by the unexpected change of action.

Debbie swiftly crawled her way out of the bed, and put on Lou’s plaid robe — which she shamelessly _loved_ wearing over her naked body — securing it around her hips. She reached her hand towards Lou and waited for her to take it. 

Lou’s face was still furrowed in confusion but she didn’t say anything, instead wrapping the long white sheet around her body and getting up to follow Debbie out of their room.

They walked across the living room, and Lou’s confusion increased considerably when Debbie reached the door that led to their small backyard, guiding them both into the open air. The private outdoor area was pretty small, only a short fence separated their garden from the street, but it could still provide enough space for them to leisurely chill out on their two lawn chairs. 

After a long stressful day, they would usually go there at night, simply taking pleasure in each other’s company and relishing the stillness and tranquility of the big city under the stars as well as the view of the tall, illuminated buildings in the distance. Their small unremarkable backyard was what made them choose this house over dozens of others.

“Deb, what are you doing?” Lou asked, gripping Debbie’s hand tighter, still following behind her. 

The brunette slightly shook her head, her eyes twinkling with playful mischief. “So inquisitive.” 

“Well honey, you know, I’m all naked on the street. You can’t really blame me for asking where the fuck you’re taking us,” Lou said while nervously looking around, making sure they were alone and wouldn’t be disturbed by some nosey neighbor.

Debbie softly grabbed Lou’s jaw, planting a soft kiss on her lips. “You’re not naked, and no one will see us if you keep quiet,” she spoke in a low tone, opening the wooden backdoor to the semi-private driveway separating the adjacent terraced house.

The first thing Lou noticed was a big, unidentified object fully covered in silver wrapping paper visibly alternated with aluminum foil. On top of it, was a nice red bow decorating the unusual package. 

“Go ahead, baby. Unwrap it,” Debbie said, tugging at Lou’s hand and kissing her cheek. She was exploding with excitement, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. She took a deep breath and held it in, waiting for the blonde woman to reveal what was underneath all those layers of paper. 

Lou started to slowly uncover the big object single-handedly, while her other arm kept firmly the long bed sheet in place around her chest, unveiling a shimmering metallic surface. When the ‘ _Yamaha_ ’ sign was finally revealed her movements faltered for a second as she silently stared amazed at the incredible gift in front of her. 

Immediately, her shaky hand started moving faster, ripping the rest of the paper off she finally uncovered the black motorcycle. She turned around to face Debbie, slack-jawed. In her eyes Debbie could read a myriad of emotions: astonishment, awe, but mostly love — pure, unconditional, never-ending love.

And that look, the happy smile, the tears of joy that Debbie could see forming in the corner of her blue eyes, those were the things she lived for, that made her want to spend the rest of her life trying to put that same look on her face over again. 

“So, you like it?” Debbie asked, grinning and giving her shoulder a nudge.

Lou’s eyebrows shot up and a few seconds passed by before she could form a sentence. “You kidding? I—I…” She trailed off, utterly breathless and at a loss for words.

“You always wanted one of these,” Debbie stated matter of factly, intertwining their hands and leaning her head to one side against the brick wall behind her, gaze fixed on Lou’s expression.

Lou simply nodded and placed her hand on Debbie’s face, cupping her cheek and pulling her in for a long, passionate kiss. It was sweet but deep nevertheless, allowing them to share their most profound emotions. 

“God, I love you so much,” Lou said, while staring intensely in Debbie’s eyes.

Debbie reached up to cover Lou’s hand against her own face and smiled. “I love you too.”


End file.
